A Noble Pawn
by Gunpowder Cookies
Summary: AU: Royalty isn't all partying and pretty clothing- Juvia, maid and bodyguard for the Prince Natsu, sure as hell knows that. But she will remain loyal, even if she does fall for his half brother and rival for the throne. And that's not the only complication... Gray/Juvia/Lyon, Natsu/Lucy, Jellal/Erza. Rated T for violence, swearing and mature themes. Story cover by WednesdaySnow.
1. Black and White

**AN: Yay for multichapters! Yay for AU!**

**To clear things up for non-British readers, "sweets" is the British word for "candy".**

**RATED T FOR DARK AND MATURE THEMES, CURSING AND FUTURE GORE.**

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Fairy Tail, Phantom Lord, Lamia Scale, Manga, a life, a unicorn…**_

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><p><strong>~ Black and White ~<strong>

_Trudge, trudge._

They were so loud.

_Clomp, clomp._

Did they not know what stealth was?

_Stamp, stamp._

This was going to be too easy.

_Thump, thump._

Had these guys ever thought about the noise they were making?

"Thank goodness it's not raining…" one of the men murmured, sounding miserable all the same. Their figures moved like blurs in the mist, lanterns only dying certain cloudy areas buttercup yellow and in no way guiding them.

But the mist was her friend, her veil. For she relied on more than just her sight, she could sense them- hear them, feel them, taste them. She would have been able to do so blindfolded. Slinking out from behind the stable, she slithered through the shrubbery before coming out at the summer house, which she nimbly and almost soundlessly scaled. Crouching on the roof, she reached into the folds of her dress with frozen fingers, for the night was bitterly cold and thin linen cloth did little to insulate the chill from seeping into her core.

The distinct crunch of boots on frost became audible, alerting her that the targets were approaching. That was something to be glad for the cold about. Any second now…

The men went to walk past, yet one stopped, squinting at the blurry figure in the fog as he held up his useless lantern in a futile attempt to improve the visibility. That was a mistake, one fatal mistake that sealed his fate. "What's tha-"

He was silenced when a knife was thrown at his chest with stunning accuracy, sending the unfortunate man crumpling to the ground where his lantern spluttered out and causing his companion to start and yelp before she leapt down and slit his throat, silencing the man and ending two lives in the space of ten seconds. Discarding her gargling victim aside, the young woman watched as the others readied their weapons, retaining such a poker face that none could sense the adrenaline rush she felt, another blade coming out of her sleeve, wickedly sharp and glinting, eager to serve.

She saw them prepare, bringing out makeshift weapons. These weren't trained assassins, but they had come with a purpose and weren't about to let a maid stop them.

"Juvia thinks that you'd better say your prayers. Fast."

* * *

><p>The eight year old stretched her legs and yawned before once again curling up in a ball, shivering on the doorstep. She might have gone inside had her mother not been busy with a client, and Juvia was fine with being outside, ready to pickpocket the man as he came out.<p>

Juvia was odd in many ways. The most obvious was her appearance, her curly, powder-blue hair and large navy eyes, coupled with her slim and lean figure. She was a unique person as well, with her third person speech and overactive imagination. But the blunette was nice and perky enough, so the townsfolk allowed her to play in the street, and some would even toss her coins. But generally they would steer away from the prostitute's daughter, who was as much an outcast of their society as her mother was.

She would pretend to be fine with it, but sometimes the child felt lonely, sitting there on her doorstep, rubbing her hands together in hope that they would unfreeze. Winter's icy grip was beginning to take hold, leaving the air decidedly crisp and even lightly dusting the pavement with frost, numbing her feet and tinting them a rather worrying shade of blue. She wondered if Jose was coming soon.

Jose was one of her mother's clients. Sure, he was creepy, but he talked to Juvia sometimes and would even give her some pennies on the odd occasion to buy sweets with (saved her the trouble of having to pickpocket him). He made her laugh, and she liked that. Her mother didn't like him- then again, the young woman didn't like any of her clients. She didn't seem to like anyone, not even her daughter, whom was apparently the cause of all her troubles and often paid for her existence with beatings and curses.

Yet another reason why she was fine just sitting on her doorstep.

People noticed her bumps and bruises, of course, which would range from blue to black to purple to yellow and several other colours of the rainbow. But they said nothing, because there was nothing to be said or to be done. Some people in life were unfortunate and Juvia just happened to be one of them. Besides, everybody knew she had no future- no family, no education. The best she could hope for would be crime.

Jose came and tossed her a coin, telling her to get herself something warm for the weather. He didn't seem so comic as usual, but the girl didn't dwell on it. She was cold and now she had money. So Juvia skidded off to the nearby shop and bought herself some bread.

When she returned (trying to eat without getting crumbs down her dress), all she could hear were raised voices. She sat beneath the windowsill and tried to catch snippets of the conversation. It was heated, she could tell that much, but none of it seemed to make sense until the screaming started.

Next thing she knew, Jose was outside with blood down his suit, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her along the icy pavement. Her screeches and attempts to break away were aided by none- those yells soon stopped when a cold blade was pressed against her skin.

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><p>The next eight years were her assassin training and practice. They branded her with the Phantom Lord mark, and taught her how to kill. Turns out she was a natural – one of the best, in fact – and became one of the elite at just thirteen. A promising student with a bright future; well, bright as it could get considering her occupation. During those early days, it was only training, practice on dummies.<p>

Her induction had been different. Juvia would never forget the first time she killed a man in cold blood, would never forget the look on his face as she focussed- _throat is best, throat is always best _– and slashed. She would not forget the pleading look in his eyes that changed from panic to emptiness, nor would she forget the days afterwards when she would stare at her reflection for extended periods of time, squinting as she tried to make out any remains of splattered blood on her face.

He had been innocent. And alongside that innocent man, Juvia's own innocence died.

She was one of the only girls there, something that Gajeel - a tall, well-built boy who was a year or two older than Juvia- often teased her about. But he was her friend, in a weird way, a comrade and partner. None of the others were like them; most left or even committed suicide, too soft for the life of an assassin. Juvia and Gajeel were different, they became hardened and built strong exoskeletons until each throat was just another to their grand total. Those two were the future; ruthless killers who had sacrificed their humanity.

They began taking missions just before her fourteenth birthday. They were good, very good. Flawless in fact. Sometimes a team, sometimes solo, but undoubtedly two of Phantom Lord's best. The bodies piled up and their trail of blood became longer, but the duo pleased client after client. Just over three years passed without a failed mission.

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><p>It was one of the greatest missions she would take, and certainly one of the hardest. The criteria was simple-<p>

Assassinate the Lady Erza Scarlet.

Juvia neither knew nor cared who the client was, so long as she got the money in the end. In fact, she wasn't too bothered about the payment either- each successful mission meant board, lodging and equipment from Phantom Lord. Besides, this was her life now- she'd lost her reason for existing other than to kill. She had heard much of the lady knight who had won many a battle for the king, but didn't give a toss. What she did care about was the fact that Lady Scarlet forever wore armour, which left two options- to poison her or kill her as she slept.

Option 1 was preferable- less messy.

Using the information gathered, Juvia made her way through the garden and over to the west wall, slowly but undetected. The lady made sure that her mansion was heavily guarded at all times, which meant that Juvia had to apply all her skills in order to remain undetected- she wasn't in the mood for a mass slaughter. That was one of the main differences between her and Gajeel- the latter took a rather kamikaze approach to his profession, arguing that it was just easy to kill anybody in the way- got the job done much faster and provided more of a thrill. Juvia preferred stealth and silence, to be no more visible than the air around her.

She did end up quietly ending the life of one unfortunate guard who was patrolling the left side of the building, whose body she dumped in a hedge. But that was necessary, she decided, as she set to reaching the third floor balcony.' Do what you must, but do it well.'- that was her motto. Scaling nimbly up a decorative alcove, the assassin heaved her way onto the second floor balcony, leapt to a neighbouring one and shimmied up a flagpole before once again performing a leap of faith. After hauling her way up onto the balcony, she grinned in pride at her achievement. Climbing was one of her favourite parts of the job, and definitely one of her fortes next to swimming. The rush of air past her whilst she flew, the feeling of satisfaction at looking down.

If her information was correct, she was outside the dining room, and dinner would be served in just over ten minutes. So she waited, hiding as the servants bustled around in a frenzy of preparation. None noticed her crouched under the window, listening in on mostly uninteresting conversation. Despite her heavy guard, Erza had few servants- picking out voices, Juvia could only hear two.

"The cake, you say? What about the cake?"

"It burnt!"

"But without cake…"

The two potential witnesses ran off in terror, and Juvia waited for a minute or so - nobody came in. She slithered her way in, landing soundlessly on the polished marble floor.

Well, it seemed like the Lady Erza was in no way financially vulnerable.

Juvia shook her head to rid it of pointless thoughts as she swiftly made her way over to the table. Reaching inside her small pack, she retrieved a vial of clear liquid- perfectly scentless and extremely deadly. Working quickly, the girl removed the stopper and tipped the poison into a drinking cup filled with what appeared to be water.

"W-we will have the cake done by the time you are finished, L-lady Erza…"

Oh _shit._

No time to replace the stopper- Juvia placed her thumb over the bottle to prevent a spillage and scrambled out of the window, once again hiding behind a small section of wall, right next to the French doors.

This was bad. Very bad. As a precaution, Juvia did not replace the stopper, hugging the vial close to her chest. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and well… she would not betray her guild, even if doing so would cost her life. Because betrayal would be the end of her anyway, and suicide was a more dignified way to go.

Juvia could only pray that such action would not be required.

There was an uncomfortable silence, with the resounding clink of plated and cutlery being absurdly loud. Then even that ceased. But there was no sound of choking, coughing or spluttering.

And then she heard the voice, oh the voice. Juvia would never forget the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as failure dawned upon her.

"You can come out now, assassin."

Juvia pressed herself against the wall, attempting to stop her breathing, hand balled around the small vial of death. If she was still enough, perhaps the Lady would forget about it. Maybe she was just paranoid…

And then the French doors opened and an armoured woman was in front of her.

"Assassin, I admire your skill. Unfortunately for you, I am no imbecile."

It was time, time to go, time to pay for the lives she had ended. Juvia slipped her thumb away and made to poison herself before the Knight smacked it out of her hand, shattering the glass. Instinctively, she reached for the second option- her knife. It would be slower and more painful, but…

"There is no need to kill yourself. Come on in."

In days to come, Juvia would question whether or not she had made the right choice at that moment. When she was watching yet another body lose its life, when she was dashing her way through scenes of carnage, when she looked back to the small, vulnerable daughter of a prostitute who was content with sitting on a doorstep- all those times, she would ask herself one question.

What if she had not hesitated? What if she had plunged the knife into her chest, to die for her client, considered a martyr by her guild?

The woman took advantage of Juvia's pause and drew her sword with one hand, hauled the girl up with the other and dragged her inside. In the light, she could make the woman out much better- she was beautiful…

…and she was pointing her shiny, well-forged sword her throat.

"Name?"

"Juvia."

"Surname?"

"None."

"Age?"

"17."

"Guild?"

The last question was answered in a wheeze as Juvia was strangled by her own betrayal. She had broken almost every written rule of her guild and probably a few unspoken ones as well.

"Phantom Lord."

The Lady Scarlet nodded. "Juvia, I'll leave your guild alone on one condition."

Juvia's nodded eagerly, ready for whatever offer this woman had. If this was her chance of redemption, then she would sacrifice whatever was necessary. Because her gut was twisted into angry knots and the situation was dizzying, confusing her no end with its surrealism.

"A friend of mine is in need of a bodyguard. I believe that you would be good for the job."

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><p>Juvia adjusted her skirt, striding along the corridor. Usually, such places were off limits to servants, but the woman's position had its benefits. Taking one last chance to comb her fingers through her hair, Juvia took a moment to compose herself before knocking softly on the door and entering into the dim room.<p>

"Your majesty, Juvia has arrived to wake you up."

A moan came from the bed as its occupant stirred, sitting upright to look at his maid with bleary eyes. He waved a dismissive hand and went to go back to sleep, covering his head.

His maid tutted in disapproval at such 'regal' behaviour that her master would display daily before drawing open the heavy curtains and allowing piercing sunlight to flood the room (a welcome change from the previous evening's mist.) The now illuminated man groaned and flung off the bedcovers.

"Oh. Juvia." He deadpanned sleepily, running a hand through his rosy hair. The blue haired girl rolled her eyes before handing him his clothes.

"Master, we will be departing shortly in about an hour or so. Juvia hopes that you will be ready by then so that we can arrive at our destination by this evening. As you know, the Lady Scarlet will be enraged if you fail to attend on time."

Her master shuddered at the mention of Erza's name before beaming at her. "Thanks, Juvia!"

She bowed and turned to leave before he stopped her.

"You have some blood on your apron. Make sure to change it."

The maid flushed bright red- she knew she had forgotten something! "Of course, Prince Natsu. I shall do so." And so she scurried away until he spoke up yet again.

"Oh, by the way, where are we going again?"

Juvia sighed- Natsu always forgot the most important details! "We are going to visit the Lady Erza Scarlett, with whom you are to visit the town of Clover in celebration of their harvest festival. As is traditional of the royal family."

"Oh… Clover? Yeah, I remember that."

Juvia smiled good naturedly before leaving the Prince to change. No doubt there would be complications- she had thwarted three assassination attempts in one month alone, and a festival would be the perfect opportunity to attack the young possible heir.

Possible heir was the term she used for Natsu's position. Why?

It's complicated.

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><p><strong>AN: Second multichapter! Hya! Ninja! Anyway, thanks to AkumaNoKiseki for helping me with ideas. Expect the next chapter when I have the muse for it. Reviews are nice. Almost as nice as banoffee pie.<strong>


	2. Let the Games Begin

AN:** Yay for reviews!**

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Fairy Tail. Honestly, I'd be surprised if you thought I did.**_

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><p><strong>~ Let the Games Begin ~<strong>

Many wondered why the prince would always have a maid by his side. As far as they could tell, she was of no significance; certainly attractive with her deep, alluring eyes and slender figure, but rather quiet and not a being of note. She had appeared around three months ago, her origins unknown to even the greatest of gossips. Indeed, none had seen nor heard of Juvia Lockser (the name she selected for herself) prior to her unexpected appearance as the prince's maid and companion. She may as well have fallen out of the sky and landed next to Natsu- the girl certainly stayed close by her master. He had no objections to this- in fact, he would bring the girl everywhere. Rumours would spread like wildfire- she was the penniless daughter of foreign nobility, another of Igneel's illegitimate children, a spy from overseas. The most common and generally accepted theory was that she was his mistress.

The guesses grew wilder still, but none did so much as brush the truth. For that the pair were glad. Juvia's position was a precarious one- not only had she betrayed one of Fiore's most feared assassin guilds, but many were critical of her closeness with the prince, especially due to her gender. But Fiore had many strong women, with Erza Scarlet being one of them. And Juvia's friendship with the lady knight strengthened her.

They were an odd pair, the Prince and his maid. He was loud and bold, she was quiet and serene. He was pink, she was blue. She was a disgraced assassin and daughter of a prostitute; he was son of Fiore's king and a candidate for the throne.

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><p>Juvia had always known that the throne of Fiore was undecided, but she only realised how delicate the situation was when Erza sat her down and gave her a lecture on the topic.<p>

"The king," the redhead had started "Has had two wives. His first was Ur, a foreign widowed baroness. She had two children- Ultear and Lyon – though it is common knowledge that the latter is a bastard child. She married Igneel and, after three years, became pregnant- however, she died giving birth to a son, Gray."

The blue haired girl nodded slowly as she absorbed the information. Erza acknowledged this before continuing.

"Igneel didn't wait long to marry his already pregnant mistress, Grandine. She gave birth to a son, Natsu, and also Wendy five years later before a few scandals led to her execution."

"-So Gray is next in line for the throne…?"

Erza sighed. "He should be. Here's where it becomes confusing- as the eldest son (even if only by a year), Gray should be heir to the throne. However, not only was Grandine of higher birth, but she was native to Fiore- Ur was both of lower birth and foreign, to the extent that she could hardly understand a word her husband spoke. Grandine was more popular with the pe-"

"So who is in line?" Juvia asked, feeling her brain twist and scream and writhe in agony and confusion. "Gray is the eldest but Natsu's mother was of higher birth… who is to be king?"

"I don't know."

Juvia looked at the woman in disbelief, sapphire eyes wide. "Pardon?"

"Nobody knows." Erza said simply. "Igneel decided that whichever son gains more support can have the throne. This will be decided in three years' time on Natsu's twentieth birthday."

"…Well, if Grandine was more popular…?"

Erza sighed. "Let's just say, some people are willing to go to extreme measures in order to secure the throne for the candidate of their choice. Which is where you come in."

Juvia straightened. "By extreme measures, Juvia presumes that you mean-"

"Assassination? Yes. Certain supporters of the Fullbusters have decided on eliminating the competition to achieve victory. Natsu's guard have been on high alert and there have been countless near death instances within the last few years."

The blue haired girl's eyes took on a knowing look, one of anticipation. "Which is why Juvia is to be a bodyguard. But surely there are capable men out there who could serve…"

Erza shook her head. "Do not see your gender as a weakness- in this situation, it is your strength. None will suspect a maid as the prince's bodyguard."

"But Juvia is an assassin, not a warrior. She works with stealth, not combat."

The flame haired lady smiled. "You are the only assassin to have made it into my house, and I was almost knocking on death's door. Natsu is a charismatic person, but he had enemies and they are determined. You will find yourself learning quickly."

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><p>"So boooored…" Natsu groaned, throwing his cards onto the floor. Juvia tutted in disapproval, kneeling down to pick them up. This challenge was a greater one than you might think, as the carriage was jolting and bumping over rough country roads, meaning that the girl was constantly fighting to retain her balance as well as snatch the scattered cards.<p>

"Juvia's heart soars to see such _regal _behaviour." She said sarcastically, slamming her hand down on the knave of diamonds to prevent it skittering away. "We have been travelling for just over two hours now- I imagine that we should arrive in three or so."

Very few would have dared speaking to a member of Fiore's royal family in such a way- then again; very few had served Natsu with such dedication as Juvia had. She had only worked as his maid and bodyguard for four months, but the amount of lifesaving, combat training and disciplining she had exerted was second to none. Ironically, it was the maid part that she found more difficult- Natsu's staff were a disorderly mess, and their frantic floundering would have been enough to shame a bar of drunks.

Juvia and Natsu had known each other for under half a year, but he already trusted her more than any other. She was not like a sister- she was his guardian and protector, who had wormed her way into such a crucial position in his life that he simply couldn't imagine being without her. He was sure that, with Juvia by his side, he would achieve anything.

Though he was probably going to die of boredom soon. "Three hours straight! Can't we stop for a break?"

The girl raised an eyebrow. "And be late, facing the wrath of Erza? As your bodyguard, Juvia cannot allow such danger to befall you."

Her master shuddered. "Erza… that devil woman…"

Juvia let out a small giggle at his terror as she managed to gather the last of the cards. "What game do you wish to play? Gin Rummy? Blackjack?"

The pink haired prince yawned. "Nah, I'm fine for now. Think I might get some rest."

She was disbelieving of this claim, but decided not to argue. Slipping the playing cards into her apron pocket, the girl once again sat and, when she was content that her master was sleeping, pulled back one of the curtains and peered at the countryside painted before her, serene and in a picture of picturesque tranquillity.

The former assassin was well aware that the prince was faking it, watching her sneakily, but simply smiled. Her master was clumsy, loud and in no way the perfect prince, but he radiated honesty. Satisfied, she let her mind wonder.

Natsu examined her. No doubt was she pretty- no great beauty, but queerly charming- and a being of great virtue. Juvia was special, but his heart belonged to another.

No, no, no. It didn't.

Weary of arguing with his inner demons, the prince sighed and prepared for three hours of monotony.

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><p>Juvia was right in her estimate, and they arrived in the early afternoon. Lady Erza's mansion seemed different during the day, as opposed to the last time Juvia approached it. Its charm and perfect symmetry now seemed elegant rather than menacing. Natsu had drifted off, slumped in his seat and snoring softly. What a prince. She nudged him gently.<p>

"We have arrived, master."

He snuffled, but did not react.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, your Princeliness. We're here." She whispered, jabbing her finger into his cheek. He awoke with a start, blinking as his vision adjusted to see the somewhat irritated face of his maid.

"Juvia? Are we nearly there yet?"

"We're here." She deadpanned. "You do not wish to anger the Lady Scarlet, do you?"

"…Shit! We're late!" he cursed loudly, flinging open the carriage doors and throwing himself outside. Juvia cried in surprise, leaping to her feet and following him.

"Wait, your highness! We're not la-"

She emerged to find her master sprawled out on the floor with a menacing woman standing over him, flame red hair paling in comparison to the murderous look on her face. She looked up to see the blue haired maid gawping.

"Oh, Juvia. Welcome!" seeing that the girl was now fretting at her master's side, she called for some servants. "He just learnt a valuable lesson."

Juvia stuttered as she got to her feet, watching the now unconscious prince be dragged inside. It was the sort of action that only the feared and revered Lady Erza Scarlet could get away with. The blue haired girl held much admiration for the lady knight, whose story was truly one of rags to riches. And to think that, only three months ago, she had been out to kill such a woman.

Once Natsu was out, Erza turned to Juvia, face now serious. "We have a briefing in order."

Smoothing down her apron, Juvia nodded and followed the redhead inside.

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><p>"Tell, what happens in this festival?" Juvia asked. The two women were now seated with cups of tea; the redheaded one munching on a cake with her blue haired companion's remaining untouched.<p>

"It's a lovely little festival." Erza replied. "A parade followed by a party and banquet. Not usually what the monarchy would associate with, but the king's great grandmother was duchess of Clover, so a present royal is now traditional. Prince Gray is rather preoccupied, as is his sister Ultear, and Wendy is too young to represent. So Natsu's in luck- a public appearance can instantly boost one's popularity."

Juvia looked up from the swirling warmth of her drink. "It can also be a fatal window of opportunity for those with wrong intentions."

Her friend nodded in acknowledgment. "That is true. Clover's a fairly safe town, but now that aristocracy has become somewhat poisonous as of late, it is likely that this quaint little celebration will have sinister undertones."

"It is Juvia's duty to remain by the Prince and protect him-"

"But you can't do that. Natsu can't spend the entire festival with a maid by his side. Which is why you are to disguise yourself as an ordinary citizen."

Juvia bit her lip and nodded. "And, in that disguise, Juvia should watch him as best as she can."

"I shall be by him for most of the festival, so you have little to fear in that respect. You will have to patrol the area. If there are any snipers, you are to eliminate them."

The two agreed seriously before allowing their conversation to take a lighter turn. Juvia took a sip of her tea, but left her cake untouched as her eyes roamed the room. Erza's mansion was stunning, with everything appearing pristine and tasteful. Juvia had heard that the woman's story was one of great trauma and small origins, but she knew no more than that.

"Your new haircut is rather fetching, Juvia. Maybe I should also cut mine shorter? But it wouldn't look right…" The redheaded woman noticed Juvia's absentminded look, and inquired into her thoughts.

Juvia blushed and stuttered. "W-well somebody told Juvia th-that you, uh… had origins similar to hers."

Erza blinked before putting down her fork. "And what would your history be, before joining Phantom Lord?"

To that the teenage girl stared into her drink. "Juvia would rather keep that to herself."

"Then do I not also have the right to remain silent?" To this Juvia mumbled an apology, but Erza smiled. "I do not mind telling, so long as you are willing to listen."

Juvia said that she was.

"Well, you must have the patience of a saint if you spend so much time around Natsu. Now… where to start? Yes, the very beginning…"

Erza popped the last of her cake into her mouth before continuing. "I was born on the island of Tenrou- small and quaint, but peaceful. Everyone knew everyone else, we lived off the land and the troubles of humanity were far away.

"But such a peaceful existence left the island dwellers as ripe for the taking. A little time after my tenth birthday, they arrived in ships, larger than I had ever seen before. Our crops were burnt, men were killed and women were violated. The unlucky were enslaved.

"I thought I would die on the journey. Heavy chains were dragging me to the grimy floor, yet it was so packed that I could hardly breathe, let alone move. We were fed little, and none of that reached me. Diseases spread like wildfire, people dropping like flies. It was only when we reached Fiore that I once again felt fresh air. Life from then on wasn't much better. I ended up serving in a small factory spinning cotton. We would work in temperatures beyond my comprehension, repeating the same monotonous action time after time. Many died, and other lost the will the continue with existence. I did too, for a while.

"It was only around four years later that I saw an escape. I cut my hair, changed my name and posed as a boy, enrolling into Fiore's army. Back then, sixteen was the minimum age, but it was common practice for the underaged to pretend. Nobody seemed to mind. After a while, I no longer felt the need to pretend to be male, for I became such a valuable asset to the regiment that they were ready to accept me. Some thought it unacceptable, a woman serving in the army, but I rose speedily within the ranks. Two years ago I lead a troop into battle and won splendidly, ending the war- for that, I was knighted."

Juvia blinked in disbelief. How could she be so miserable about her past when Erza's was as she had just heard? "Juvia never imagined…"

"Many are critical, mostly due to my gender. But the greatest strength is to continue, as I shall. Now I am one of the King's military advisors. So there you have it."

* * *

><p>"Master? Juvia believes that it is time for your daily fencing training." The maid said, poking her head through the door. Much to her surprise, Natsu was up and at a desk, writing what appeared to be a letter- though Juvia noticed that he had only written one line. At seeing her, Natsu scrunched up the paper and threw it to the floor. This was a common occurrence.<p>

The pink haired prince groaned. "Is devil woman coming?"

"Lady Erza is preoccupied with preparations for the upcoming festival. However, she wishes to fence you when she returns, so Juvia believes that some practice is in order."

Natsu shuddered. "Oh boy…"

She sighed. "Shall Juvia escort you?"

At this her master grinned. "I would be honoured." He said, taking her arm in his. She raised an eyebrow in good humour before leading him out of the room. The scrunched up beginning of a letter remained on the floor.

_Dear Lucy,_

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><p><strong>AN: Woah, I pumped out this update fast. No. Do not expect them all to be within a week or so of each other. This chapter was a total ass pull.<strong>

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favourited and put this on their story alerts! Gosh, I am beginning to get so excited for this story. I've been working on its plot for a while and I have the lovely AkumaNoKiseki as a confidant.**

**See you next chapter!**

**~Meg**

_**EDITED: MY COMPUTER SHAPED FAECES DECIDED NOT SO SAVE MY LINE BREAKED VERSION. LINE BREAKS HAVE BEEN ADDED.**_


	3. Opening Strategy

**AN: Yay for reviews!**

_**Disclaimer: Don't own Fairy Tail. Really. Honest.**_

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><p><em><strong>~Opening Strategy~<strong>_

"Work on skill, not strength, master. Brutal hacking and slashing does nothing but tire out your arm and show the opponent how much experience you lack." She said, parrying another of Natsu's blows. Juvia's student was eager enough, but she could already tell that his talents did not lie with the sword. His strikes were too clumsy, nowhere near as neat and deadly as hers. A quick disengagement followed by a semi-circular parry and first counter riposte finally ended the fight.

And she was going easy on the prince.

Natsu threw his epee aside with a groan, removing his gauntlet. "What am I doing wrong? I'm trying and I'm training!"

Juvia raised an eyebrow at the minor tantrum. "As Juvia has said time and time again- fencing is a fine art. No amount of effort can fight skill."

"Well…" Natsu trailed off. Juvia could sense his frustration- the prince tried and tried, but he was simply not able to fence. In that respect she pitied him; Juvia remembered all too well how impudent she had been when Phantom Lord attempted to train her in basic marksmanship. It was all very well for one to have weaknesses, so long as they could compensate.

Her prince would never be able to fence, so she decided to try something new. Discarding her own sword, she faced him. "Do you still wish to learn defence?" She asked seriously.

At this he grinned and she felt somewhat relieved that the old Natsu was back. "Duh!"

"Then punch Juvia."

"Eh?" Natsu said, shock on his features. "But you're-" He shut up to block a blow from the girl, a smile once again breaking out on his face as he realised what was happening. He attempted to hit her in the gut, at which she ducked and twisted his arm behind his back before he tossed her off. Natsu went for a punch; she avoided it and swiped for his legs.

This odd brawl went on for some time, something of a vicious dance routine. Where Natsu was strong, Juvia was swift; he held determination, she had experience. Overall, the two were evenly matched, and such a fight brought adrenaline. Every move was purposeful, the tables constantly turning. They only stopped fighting when Juvia's skirt was accidentally ripped.

She looked at her pupil who was breathing heavily after such exercise, barely concealing her own exhaustion. How long had that brawl lasted?

Natsu grinned at her. "Guess that's something I can do."

Later on, Erza completely kicked his ass at fencing. Juvia, on the other hand, suffered from multiple stab wounds to the finger when she tried mending the tear in her skirt.

* * *

><p><em>Dear Natsu,<em>

The blonde girl shook her head and ripped the paper to shreds. It was wrong, just wrong. He hadn't replied to any of her letters, so why should she send more?

Whatever anger began to rise was quickly extinguished. Lucy couldn't stay angry at Natsu if she wanted to. No, this feeling was more one of loneliness and frustration, as though she had been abandoned. He probably had much better things to do- it was likely that she was nothing more than a name anymore.

Well, so was he.

…Or not.

Lucy sighed, brushing hair out of her face. Whenever she attempted to feel negative emotions towards Natsu, his dazzling grin would appear in her mind and chase them all away with its luminescence. That annoyed her more than anything else because she wanted to be as angry at Natsu as he probably was at her. Judging by the rumours she had heard, he had got himself a mistress- which, quite frankly, made Lucy's stomach churn. Her mental image of Natsu seemed to be becoming more outdated by the day. She had probably changed too; they were drifting apart much like leaves on a tree- growing close together before the wind blew them apart.

It wasn't her fault. She had a part in it, but she was not completely responsible for the situation.

Glancing at the comically growing pile of torn paper that was accumulating on her desk, the teenage girl supressed a groan. Why her?

* * *

><p>"Wow, look!" Natsu chirped, peeking through the carriage curtains at the streets. They were decorated with garlands of flowers, paper lanterns and all manner of ornaments, and he looked as though Christmas had come early.<p>

Erza raised an eyebrow and folded her arms. "You must remain dignified, your highness. Act like the model prince and you will find your support steadily growing with each public appearance."

"Yeah, yeah." The prince replied, turning to his companion. "I have to be dashing and charming and yadiyadiyada."

"Saying 'yadiyadiyada' is hardly royal." Erza scolded him. "You must behave, do you hear? I may not be Juvia, but I do know how to enforce discipline." Her voice was stern, but there were traces of friendly endearment in there.

Natsu, however, failed to detect this as his brow furrowed. "Come to think of it, where is Juvia? I haven't seen her since… since last night."

"Juvia may be employed by you, but I believe it is only right for her to have the occasional day off. She will be enjoying the festival whilst I shall take up her duties." Erza told him the partial truth. Natsu was aware of what a dangerous position he was in, but had no grasp of truly how perilous it was. The prince seemed oblivious as to how a small town celebration could be the perfect opportunity for assassination. In that respect, Erza was almost pitied him- such a sheltered childhood had left him seeing the world through something of a rose tinted glass. It was already beginning to crack, but the redheaded woman could already foresee it shattering and its shards cutting deep.

She just prayed that, when it happened, he would be able to bandage himself up.

Natsu was ignorant as to the depth of her thoughts. "Awww, man. And I wanted to show Juvia around! She's probably never been to a festival before." He complained. "Oh well, I'll just tell her everything when I next see her! Everything!"

Erza gave him a steely glare, a silent order to behave, before allowing him to continue gazing at the decorations in wonder.

* * *

><p>Juvia made her way through the hustle and bustle. The festival was beginning to stir, and there was already a sizeable number appearing. Stalls were advertising handmade trinkets (most of which would never be of any use) or selling food. There was even the odd street performer such as fire breather or dancer, and several other entertainers of a less innocent nature roaming, all looking for ways to make a living. Similar to Juvia's task, only probably much less sinister.<p>

She snuck a glance at the carriage, hoping that Natsu would not recognise her. She had covered her easily identifiable hair with a bonnet and was sporting a simple blue cotton dress with a green bow, the innocent look complete with a wicker basket. Many today had dressed in their very best, so she was another with the crowd. She felt a mixture of amusement and irritation when she saw him glancing mischievously out of the window.

Mingling with the crowd, she risked dipping her hand into the basket. Good, the knives were there.

The girl almost jumped out of her skin when she directly bumped into somebody. She luckily managed to stay upright, but withdrew her hand rather quickly to avoid attracting attention.

He didn't seem to have minded too much- indeed, Juvia didn't quite know how to interpret his reaction. His onyx eyes confused her as they seemed to stare for an eternity, the deepest black. A light pink was dusting his cheeks. The man's clothing was fairly inconspicuous, and his gravity defying snowy hair was passable. Juvia had never seen him before, but she understood little from what was in front of her.

Juvia opened her mouth to apologise before realising that she was attracting attention. She simply nodded her head before dropping it so that her face was covered by the bonnet's shadow and quickly scurrying back into the crowd.

The parade was to begin in around an hour and a half, and she had just as long to scout out any who wished to dispose of her master.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Waaah, so short! I usually aim for at least 2k of words per chapter, but I'm going off to the Maldives tomorrow so I wanted to get an update beforehand. Sorry for the filler, expect more plot when I get back.<strong>

**And, since there was one reviewer I couldn't reply to, I wish to clarify- I am not giving much away, but this is not a Natsu x Juvia. They're close and I may even have hints/teasing, but they will not end up as a couple.**

**Hasta luego!**

**~Meg**


	4. First Move Made

**AN: Here is our long procrastinated against chapter!**

**And now, to finally clear things up: **_**This story is not Natsu x Juvia. They are listed as the main characters because they will appear the most, not because they are going to be coupled.**_

**Also, I am searching for a beta reader. Any volunteers are welcome! (Because I'm too shy to go and ask anyone directly… eheheheh)**

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Fairy Tail, oh-people-who-guard-copyright. I am a humble fan.**_

* * *

><p>The lock had already been picked. Juvia glanced at the small brass sign reading <em>Clover Orphanage <em>before it went on to list when and by whom it was opened. But that was of no concern to the young woman as she slipped in through the door and into the mostly empty building. All of its occupants were probably enjoying the festival.

She made her way through the building, scanning the dining hall, the dormitories and constantly being disappointed. Juvia was sure she had seen a figure in the window and was almost certain she had seen the glint of a rifle- the fact that the door was unlocked convinced her there was sinister activity. But what if she was wrong? She was wasting precious time that could determine the prince's life.

Luckily enough, she noticed a small flight of wooden stairs. Scaling them brought her to an attic, thankfully with a ceiling high enough for Juvia to stand upright. And, just as she had observed, there was a person at the window, pointing a rifle. His clothing, a bulky hooded jacket and a belt stuffed with weaponry, made his goal obvious. Upon hearing her approach, the man lowered his firearm but did not turn.

"You are most conspicuous, sir. Juvia could cringe at an assassin displaying such lack of skill." Juvia stated. "However, she admires your plan- nobody would expect to be sniped from the attic of an orphanage."

Her enemy turned around, muscular, his scraggy black hair overgrown. When he saw her, his stoic face took on a demented grin, eyes becoming crazy. He ripped off his bulky jacket, revealing large spiked pads on his shoulders and a tattoo across his chest. "And who would you be, little Juvia?" He crowed, throwing his rifle to the ground.

Juvia quickly swiped two knives from her basket, using one to swiftly cut the ribbon of her bonnet and free her dark cerulean hair. The piece of headwear fell to the floor, quickly kicked out of the way alongside the wicker basket. "Juvia Lockser, sworn to protect the Prince Natsu." She deadpanned in reply. Her eyes travelled to his rifle. "What a modern design- then again, Juvia holds much distaste for firearms." She raised one of the blades. "Juvia prefers a more refined style."

His grin widened, something that Juvia had thought of as impossible. "I didn't think the monarchy would sink as low as to send a wench wielding a piece of metal. Then again, I'm not complaining. You'd be a good one without that ugly ass dress."

The girl's eyes narrowed, but she otherwise ignored his perverse comment as her sapphire eyes scanned the room, landing on the two slumped figures in the shadows. He seemed to notice, laughing dryly. "Looks like a harvest festival didn't clear this place out. Just two people left, a quick job."

Juvia felt her jaw tighten. "Your showy attire, killing two women and leaving the bodies… your style is sickening. Juvia can only imagine what kind of guild trained you. Tartaros? Eisenwald? Death's Head Caucus? "

Something in him hardened. "Got it on your third try, girly. I'm in the best assassin's guild there is. Vidaldus Taka's the name."

"Excellent. Now Juvia doesn't have to search for a guild mark on your dead body." She said before going in for the kill.

* * *

><p>"Natsu, sit still!" Erza hissed. "The parade is in half an hour, must you fidget constantly until then?" The two were sitting in a tent as frantic last minute preparations took place. The horses were ready, but the parade certainly wasn't.<p>

The pink haired prince grinned goofily as Erza straightened his jacket. "Awww, relax! I'm just fired up! The parade! The festival!"

His knight companion glared at him. "Natsu, this is to be one of your first public appearances for months. Remember, your brother is currently at an advantage due to his-"

"I know!" Natsu cut her off (and instantly came to regret it when she radiated such a dark, murderous aura that he could have dropped dead _that very instance_). "Look… you don't have to bring it up, okay? Of course I'll be dashing and charming and handsome and amiable (whatever that means) at the parade, but I'm me and I'll be that way when I can."

Erza couldn't help but smile as she sat down on her stool. "I'm not asking for that. But you know that you have my full support in this fight. The path to being king is certainly a perilous one, and very few make it through uncorrupted." She inched forward, a flair of passion in her eyes. "Natsu, I believe you would lead this kingdom to a great age. So I will do my utmost best to assist you on the road to rule."

Natsu ran a hand through his rosy mop before grinning. "I know, Erza. You and Juvia, you're my best friends."

"And most probably two of your best allies."

The prince nodded and reached for his drink before Erza snatched it away, scolding him.

"Natsu! You can't be drinking so soon before the parade!"

He pouted, folding his arms. "The servant girl brought it in, it's water!"

Erza sniffed at it before wrinkling her nose in distaste. "It's clear alright, but its pungency suggests otherwise." And, to illustrate her displeasure, she poured the liquid onto the dirt floor. "Which serving girl brought it?"

Natsu shrugged. "One of the girls from Clover, the one with the pink hair."

"That doesn't narrow the field."

He began to describe the female, flapping his arms around in some form of narrative gesture. "You know, the one with the bright pink hair and the beauty spots and all the make-up …"

* * *

><p>Lyon Bastia was a calm man. Cool, collected, almost always perfectly chilled.<p>

Right now he was a blushing teenager who could have been overheating from the blood rushing to his face. Just… that girl… her eyes, her perfect, doll-like face…

The boy stopped for a minute, shaking his head. True, the girl he had met had captured his heart, but he currently had a mission and this distraction could prove fatal. Burying his hands in his pockets, he sauntered through the crowd, onyx eyes flickering around as he mentally assessed the situation.

_Gray, you bastard, you'd better be grateful. _Lyon thought as though that message would reach his half-brother. _And I hope the information you gave me is right._

To be honest, Lyon didn't give a care in the world what happened to Natsu Dragneel, a boy he had only met once and had minimal interaction with. But he did care about his siblings. This, however, was testing his loyalty to the limits.

_Then again, I did meet that girl… NO! _He forced himself to take a deep breath, but that only brought her image back. Love was something Lyon had only heard from ever-romantic kitchen maid Sherry and in what few books he had read, but now it had ambushed him, and it was piling on so thick that he couldn't get his head straight. Was this lovesickness? It certainly felt like a fever… albeit one that Lyon seemed to enjoy.

A hand flew to his belt, where feeling the cool metal of the hilt of his sword under his coat brought him back to earth. He had a goal, a mission, and he would achieve it. Mainly because he had thirty minutes to achieve it in and that sort of time passed awfully fast when it lead up to a deadline. Oh, never before had he ever applied that word so literally.

* * *

><p>And so the fight began, metal clashing on metal, Juvia's knives against Taka's cleaver. For such an unwieldy weapon, he was certainly skilled with it, his swipes far swifter than one would expect from a blade of such girth. He swung it heavily at her head, in response to which she crossed over her knives for defence, blocking the attack and enduring the pressure he applied before ducking to the side and withdrawing the blades. Caught off guard, he stumbled forward, an opportunity she took to try and stab him in the back. But he recovered quickly, turning and using his weapon to bash her knife away so the blade only nicked the skin on his cheek.<p>

Nonetheless, she could see his eyes climb to the next level of insanity. "Look what you did to my face, bitch!" He shrieked, swinging the cleaver once again. Still off guard from her failed attack, Juvia only just managed to step out of the way.

"That is no way to address a lady." She scolded, lunging at him. Soon they were in a flurry of attacks and parries, hers graceful and at such speeds whilst his had slow, brutish power. Anyone watching such a fight would be awed by the display of such deadly skill.

At this he threw back his head and laughed, striking one of her knives with such force that it was sent flying out of her hand and skidding to the floor. Panic instantly began to rise, but she kept it internal. "You're no lady- at least, not whilst that nice body of yours is stuck in those awful clothes."

Panic was replaced with pure, malicious, unadulterated loathing. With a hiss of hatred, Juvia dodged to the side, making her way to her other knife as fast as she could.

She knew that, when her hand closed over the smooth metal hilt, he was standing over her, prepared to swing his cleaver in such a way that would either decapitate her or make a bloody mess of her brain. Neither idea was too appealing.

"I wonder if the parade will be as much of a blast as Fukuro says? Then again, you won't see it."

Placing her hands onto the floor, Juvia swung her legs up, kicking him in the chest with a thick leather boot and, using all of her weight, sent him crashing to the wooden floorboards. It was an undignified move to perform in a skirt, but Juvia was willing to make such a sacrifice for this occassion.

Landing on her feet, she swivelled around and, before Taka could utter a word, stabbed her knife into his chest. His body convulsed before becoming limp, already beginning to lose its life. Juvia kneeled down, second blade raised and ready to be plunged into his heart.

A lecherous smile formed on his dark lips. "I'll see you in hell. Wear something spiffing."

He was silenced when she brought her hands down, and then permanently muted a few seconds afterwards.

It was the afterwards that Juvia found surreal. Not the killing itself, that was when adrenaline powered her- it was the aftermath of the demise, when she was standing in front of a newly dead corpse with blood on her knife. Back when she was new, she would murmur prayers. But she had given up on religion long ago.

The fight had lasted five to ten minutes, she estimated. That was good, done before schedule. Juvia turned her attention to the rifle, examining its make with faint curiosity. It was certainly well made-

-And it was empty. No bullets, no rounds, no nothing.

Slowly, the cogs in her brain started to turn. _A gun with no bullets. "The parade will be as much of a blast as Fukuro says." Taka's showy clothing and lack of concealment._

**A red herring.**

Whatever sinking feeling overcame her was quickly abolished. She wasn't dealing with just one assassin, and she had twenty five minutes left- at the most.

No time to hide bodies or blend in with crowds. Juvia dragged Taka's corpse over with the two unfortunate females before picking up her bonnet and basket, chucking them out of the window and into the gutter before climbing out onto the roof. If she was stealthy, nobody would notice a figure moving along the rooftops. And, if they did, she would be so swift that a second glance would have them doubting the truth.

It was her best shot. Juvia ripped the hem off her dress for manouverability before jumping off the orphanage roof and landing on that of a neighbouring building. She would have to keep her eyes peeled for any other suspicious activity… especially if it was from that white haired man.

_Please, Erza: guard Natsu and guard him well._

* * *

><p>"Natsu," Erza said in a low voice. "I've never seen her before."<p>

Her companion went silent before turning to the liquid that was now soaking into the ground. The Dragneel prince was not the smartest, but even he began to catch on. "But that means she could have been-"

"An assassin. And that could have been-"

"Poison." Came a third voice. "Not the high quality venom I take preference to, but what else can you get in this area at such short notice? It's a shame the plan didn't work, thanks to you, Lady Scarlet."

The tent flap opened- the guards must have been either drugged or dead- and a woman entered. She fitted Natsu's vague description; however, he had failed to note her malicious eyes and the large, eastern-style sword she was sporting wielding, dripping with fresh blood.

The woman spread her arms out in a showy gesture. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Ikaruga of the Death's Head Caucus guild, and the leader of the team Trinity Raven. And I am afraid_, Dame Scarlett_," she spat out Erza's official title with hatred, "That you have sentenced his royal princiliness here to a rather painful death."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: CAN'T WRITE FIGHT SCENES WAAAAAAH!<strong>

**Anyway, this story arc will last around 2 more chapters – don't take my word for it though.**

**Now, a lot of you have said you are intrigued about Natsu and Lucy. Feel free to submit your guesses! I would love to hear what you guys can come up with.**

**Am I supposed to shamelessly beg for reviews?**

**Au revoir!**

**~ Meg**


	5. Breakthrough

**AN: I love you all! I love your reviews, your support, your everything!**

_**Disclaimer: No, in the space between the previous chapter and this one, I did not magically gain the copyright for Fairy Tail.**_

* * *

><p><strong>~ Breakthrough ~<strong>

_Dear Natsu,_

_How have you been? From what I have heard, you are getting along well. I heard that you've even got a beautiful mis_

No, no. She had to keep it innocent and lighthearted. That couldn't be too hard, right?

_Dear Natsu,_

_How are you? I hope you are in good health. I'm sorry for_

Wrong, wrong. Lucy would not dredge that back up. She would have to write it as though nothing had conspired between them, under the pretence that she was a simple, curious friend.

Lucy wrote and wrote again, scrapping each letter and feeling her frustration boil as her writing became more and more furious, her words more aggressive and within minutes her handwriting had degraded from an elegant script to a primal scrawl. But, no matter how much she poured her raw feelings into it, each attempt ended up more disastrous than the one before until her pen ripped the paper, upon which she shredded her attempted letter and threw the scraps in the air.

The serenity in that torn paper it they waltzed down to the floor managed to cool the flame within her. Watching the shreds of a failed letter glide was soothing, peaceful. It made her wonder how anything could be wrong with the world.

_Like blossoms falling from a tree… like leaves falling in autumn… like Natsu and I falling apart…_

And it was with such negative poetic thoughts that she finally got up and decided that it was time for some fresh air.

* * *

><p>As Lucy watched those shreds of paper in childlike wonder, Natsu found himself in a different situation entirely.<p>

Erza's face darkened as she unsheathed her sword, blade glinting in the light as her gauntleted hand held it tight. "I made a promise that I would protect the young prince- your plan, however devious, should not succeed if I keep to my word. And I always do."

Her fuchsia haired enemy smiled humourlessly, wiping blood from her katana onto the yukata that she seemed to have changed into since Natsu saw her posing as a serving girl. Its flaming skull pattern seemed to reinforce her objective. "I have always wished to fight you, Dame Scarlet- I have heard that your sword skills are amongst Fiore's finest. I wonder, will you live up to such expectations?"

The flame haired woman's cocoa brown eyes were hard as a diamond. "Natsu, move aside."

"But-"

"Move it!" Erza barked at the prince's protest. Natsu's jaw tightened as though he would answer back, but he stepped away to let the women fight. The prince felt something churn in his stomach; he could not fight, couldn't even defend himself. Here he was, the future king of Fiore, essentially nothing more than a moving target.

Natsu pointed a finger, eyes flaring. "Erza, don't you dare lose!"

The woman glanced at him, nodding in acknowledgement before turning back to her opponent. She did not speak, but raised her sword with steel determination.

Ikaruga smirked with satisfaction before dashing forward, her sword swing blocked by Erza's well-placed parry. Twisting to the side, the assassin narrowly dodged a strike and then did the unthinkable.

She rammed the tip of her sword into the joint in Erza's armour and, in one swift movement wrenched off her shoulder plate and sent it clattering to the ground. The lady knight whipped her head around to see a trickle of red liquid begin to run down her arm.

The woman in the yukata smirked smugly at her small triumph. "It matches your hair, doesn't it? And you thought armour made you invulnerable."

Natsu felt his stomach twist. What was this woman doing to Erza? The red headed woman was easily the strongest person he knew, and the prince could not comprehend how such a thing as her being defeated was physically possible. In fact, he had never even seen her shed blood before, not even from a paper cut. She was always armoured, always protected... so what was happening now?

Erza's jaw tightened. Clutching her sword in both gauntleted hands, she raised it and, with a quick slash, ripped the sleeve off of Ikaruga's yukata and creating an ugly gash down the woman's upper arm. "I know I'm not invincible. But neither are you."

Ikaruga made no attempt to cover her wound, instead allowing it to bleed freely. Nevertheless, her expression became notably more malicious. The assassin said nothing, but swiftly swerved around before striking Erza's back with her full force, sending the other woman stumbling forwards as her armour received a large dent.

Erza heard Natsu cry out and quickly recovered, pivoting round in a nick of time- she was just able to defend herself against a swipe that would have otherwise resulted in decapitation. Both fighters applied intense pressure, each hoping that they would overpower the other and make a fatal breakthrough.

Natsu clenched his fists, searching the tent frantically. He couldn't just stand on the sidelines, he had to do _something_. But what? Sure, he could throw a good punch, but he was nowhere near this level of combat. But Natsu was a stubborn young man, and he refused to be useless.

Meanwhile, Erza and Ikaruga's battle was reaching its climax. It was clear that both women were pushing themselves to their limits, but they were so evenly matched that there seemed to be no clear victory for either. They were stuck in a groundhog day loop of parry after parry, stepping forwards and backwards, their swords moving at such speeds that Natsu couldn't keep track. The fight was fast, furious and lethal.

The tide of battle was changed when Ikaruga hissed a few words.

"Do you remember a certain Jellal Fernandes?"

Erza's resolve faltered, if only for a millisecond. But that provided an opening for Ikaruga to deal a forceful blow to her chest, denting her steel breast plate and knocking all breath out of the knight's lungs. Falling to the ground, Erza's shaky fingers clutched at the dent, gasping and choking as she frantically failed to take in oxygen. Ikaruga stood over her, sword raised and ready to permanently end her struggle.

"Even the most noble of Fiore's occupants have their dirty little secrets, and you, Dame Scarlet, are no exception."

* * *

><p>"Excuse me sir? Would you like to buy a flower?"<p>

Lyon turned around to see a small girl, holding out a cluster of forget-me-nots. A street kid, most likely one who would be beaten by her parents if she didn't sell enough. Despite his urge to complete his mission, the man gave her a few coins and took the soft blue blooms before leaving at a faster pace than before. He cursed his soft heartedness.

Ten minutes until the parade began. Pocketing the flowers, Lyon kept his head down, navigating with the crowd and attempting to remain inconspicuous. If his half-brother's information was correct, which was highly unlikely, then he was almost there.

Sure enough, the exact building that Gray had spoken of was where he had been told. Backing up against an old side door, Lyon's onyx eyes scanned the crowd. They all seemed to preoccupied jostling for a view of the street upon which the parade would take place. Even the entertainers were in the crush; parents lifted their children, a few brave souls attempted to shove towards the front. The parade would begin in just over five minutes, and the Prince Natsu was expected to reach this street in double that time.

Content that nobody was watching, Lyon laid his hand on the doorknob, slowly and cautiously turning it before allowing the door to open ever so slightly. It was unlocked. Silently celebrating his luck, the man slinked in, closing the door behind him almost as soon as he was inside.

It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dimness. When they did, he was met with nothing but a stone flight of steps. His vision beginning to improve, Lyon cautiously made his was down the steep steps, trying to make as little sound as possible.

Whoever else was in the basement was making no attempt to be quiet, clattering around. As Lyon approached the bottom of the steps, he took a moment or so to assess the situation. The cellar's occupant was, judging by his physicality, male- but his face was covered by a bird-like mask. He was muttering to himself, moving large barrels around the cellar, cursing all the way.

Well, Lyon would never again doubt Gray's skills at gaining information.

Unsheathing his sword caused the other man to turn around at hearing the distinctive sound. On closer inspection, the mask was like an owl's. The silver haired man had seen his fair share of nutjobs, so he dismissed it as some crazy cult thing.

"You're organised." Lyon stated simply, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Finding a cellar that leads directly under the street, moving so much gunpowder into it… hardly a subtle way to kill somebody, but it would surely be a blast." He allowed a small smile at his lame pun.

The owl-man's head twitched to the side slightly. "The late Queen Ur's bastard son? What an honour." He hooted, bringing out his own weapon

"I already know who you are. Fukuro of the Death's Head Caucus guild, and a member of the elite Trinity Raven. I also know that you have one of your teammates posing as a sniper – a red herring – and the other disguised as a serving girl to try an avert an explosion. You're currently waiting for your teammate to hurry up and come tell you that she killed the prince, because she's already late. Am I right?"

* * *

><p>Erza gasped and choked. Looking up, she expected to see a blade come crashing down on her, ending everything.<p>

Instead, she saw Ikaruga almost paralysed, eyes wide. Her fingers went limp, dropping her katana before she crumpled to the ground like a rag doll, clutching her head as her hands were stained with blood. Erza looked up and saw Natsu, standing where the assassin had been, her bloodstained shoulder plate in his hands. His green eyes met her brown ones, displaying disbelief at what he had done.

Air finally returned to her lungs.

Not wasting a second, Erza regained a grasp on her sword. Ikaruga was swerving dizzily, a patch of her hair already soaking with her own blood.

There were several questions Erza could have asked, and one that was biting at her more than the others. But she kept calm and rational, instead asking the most obvious.

"Who sent you?" She said in a demanding tone.

Pine green eyes met her coffee brown ones, already beginning to glaze over. Nevertheless, her now pale lips smirked as she retrieved a small, wickedly sharp hairpin from her high bunches.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She said mockingly before slitting her throat in one deft movement. Her eyes were empty before she slumped over.

There was a long silence before either the prince or the knight could move. Natsu did so first, helping Erza up onto her feet. She could see it in his face, his determined eyes, the set of his jaw- he had a question.

Sure enough, it came. "Erza, who's Jellal?"

She looked at Natsu as though considering telling him before she changed the topic. "The parade should be starting soon- I'll order some servants to clean up the mess and follow after you once I've got this armour off." Erza began to usher him out of the tent. "Now hurry, you can't be late!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Aaand once again, I fail at fight scenes. I had to do a lot of research on Medieval plate armour… wow. Research.<strong>

**Anyway, I would like to dedicate this chapter to my good friend Secret Agent Codename Bob. She's been a great help and support, both in terms of this story and in general, and she deserves credit. She also beta read this chapter.**

**Adios, mi amigos!**

**~Meg**


	6. Allies and Enemies

**AN: Yes, I have procrastination down to a fine art. And it's nice to see that you're all fond of Juvia and missed her in the last chapter.**

_**Disclaimer: What makes you think I own Fairy Tail?**_

_**~Allies and Enemies ~**_

Erza sat down, trying to return order to her spinning head. A few of her most trusted servants flocked around, disposing of the body as they were accustomed to doing.

The lady knight was still in a state of shock from the battle. It had been a long time since her ability in combat had been so equally matched. In fact, the last time she had come so close to death would have been when she last saw Jellal… speaking of whom, what did Ikaruga know about him? Was it possible that he was still alive? Butterflies swarmed in her heart. Could it be…?

Her rational side stomped the butterflies into submission. Jellal was dead unless there was solid evidence to prove otherwise; the word of a now deceased assassin was unsubstantial grounds to make an assumption on. Ikaruga had probably researched into Erza's past before the battle and learnt of Jellal. Then, when victory was uncertain, she had used it as a trump card to try and turn the tide in her favour. And it would have worked had Natsu not intervened.

There, a logical explanation. So why did every fibre of her being want to believe otherwise? Erza had never really been a woman of great imagination, preferring a more practical approach to life. But Jellal had the uncanny ability to completely destroy her order without even trying. Just one mention of his name and she collapsed. That was what Erza feared most; her mental destruction, falling apart. She had only just recovered from losing Jellal, and suddenly all of the wounds were reopening. It gave her a headache.

"Pardon, milady?"

Taking her head out of her hands, Erza looked up to see one of her maids holding out the armour she requested- only for the upper body, as Erza preferred, and undented. The sight of it snapped her back to reality.

Jellal could wait until later: protecting Natsu was her top, and only priority now.

* * *

><p>"You've done your research- how?" The crazy owl-man cooed, head twitching as he reached for his sword. Lyon only smiled, reminding himself to thank Gray later.<p>

"I have connections," was all he said, running forth, his sword in hand. Fukuro squawked in surprise at his speed and only just managed to block in time. Lyon took this as an opportunity to duck down and twist behind Fukuro's back. He would have ended the fight then and there had he not had to sidestep to avoid a swipe which appeared out of nowhere.

"You're good," Lyon breathed, grinning from the adrenaline.

With each clash of blades, a dull metallic sound rang out, echoing off the cool stone walls. Other than that and their levelled breaths, the two fought in silence. There was no sound of the crowd, no taunting or cursing. They weren't really enemies- at least, Lyon didn't think so. They were just two guys who happened to have been hired by opposing sides. You could argue that there was no 'good' or 'bad' in this situation- just 'my client' and 'your client'.

Gritting his teeth as another of his slashes was parried, Lyon took this an opportunity for desperate measures- that is, to punch his opponent in the face. _And that's why you use a one handed sword._

Fukuro stumbled back a few steps before wiping the trickling blood from his beak, caught off guard by the snowy haired man's unorthodox style of combat. "I guess that, when you're already a bastard, there's no point in honour."

"Exactly."

From there on, the fight got rougher- sword slashes interlaced with kicks and blows. Lyon was at an advantage in this respect- his light, one handed sword gave him more mobility. Every sword attack that Fukuro parried had to be followed by a quick dodge; as a result, neither were getting anywhere.

They could have kept on going with this until one collapsed in exhaustion- Lyon was already feeling taxed- but distant pounding and slight tremors reminded the two that they were on a time limit. The _thump-thump _of countless soldiers and horses signalled that the parade had begun; Fukuro had approximately seven minutes before he was to blow the place up.

"Face it- Ikaruga failed. She isn't coming."

Their routine changed with the mounting tide of desperation. Both of their clothes had tears and slashes from their kamikaze style. Apart from some minor flesh wounds, they had mostly managed to avoid injuries. And only because Lyon wasn't aiming to kill just yet. All he had to do was stall until the deadline was past and he'd have won. Who knows, maybe he would let Fukuro go intact if he was feeling merciful.

The assassin squawked, attempting a disengagement and failing as his blade was slammed into. "Ikaruga is the strongest of Trinity Raven. She would not fail, nor would she expect me to lose to the Ice Queen's bastard."

Screw mercy, this guy's death would be slow and painful.

And with every second, the war drum beat of horses' hooves and the twittering of the crowd grew until it was deafening. The parade was passing over them. Only the first soldiers and some cavalry were actually above them, nothing much yet. The main noise was actually coming from the excited onlookers. Even in the stone cellar that muted most of the sound, their screams of adoration perfectly audible.

"Face it- you have four minutes left, at the very most. There is no way that you'd be able to defeat me in that time."

_The march grew louder._

A tremor shook them and the two stumbled as what seemed to be an earthquake began. The main cavalry had arrived. Three minutes.

Their swords fell from their hands, skidding into the shadows. They didn't let this stop them; they were upon each other in seconds, wrestling, kicking and scratching and cursing. Death could come later: for now, Lyon had a favour to perform for his brother.

_**And louder still.**_

With a screech, Fukuro threw Lyon off him. He only managed to push the other man back a few feet, but he was scuttling away, backwards, towards the barrels. Lyon picked himself up- he'd landed in an awkward position. Thankfully, nothing was broken.

"Victory is still obtainable," Fukuro's crazy, bird-like shriek reminded him of nails on a blackboard and was almost lost as the pounding grew, reaching a crescendo, and the screams of the crowd grew wild.

And it was then that he drew the matches out of his pocket. Lyon realised that he'd underestimated this man.

_**Until it had almost reached its peak.**_

"You idiot!" he yelled at the top of his lungs as the cellar continued to vibrate, the precariously balanced barrels threatening to topple over. "There's no chance of us getting out in time! You'll kill us both!"

Desperately, Lyon attempted to scrabble onto his feet, but to no avail. His sword was not within reach. Summoning his strength, he prepared to throw himself at the assassin, to at least knock him over and prevent the explosion.

Too slow- the match was lit, the dancing flame almost blinding in the gloomy basement. The owl man cackled in triumph; if he was dying, he was taking Lyon and several others down with him. For the sake of his guild, for the fallen members of his team, the deadly trio.

Lyon had never been exploded before, but he imagined that it would be a painful experience. He closed his eyes, imagining that his thoughts could reach out- to Gray, to Ultear, to his dead mother, to the beautiful young girl with eyes the colour of lapis lazuli.

"Rule one of Trinity Raven: Failure is not an option!"

_**ALL HAIL THE PRINCE!**_

Screaming. Thumping. Chaos, dizziness that lasted for what seemed like an eternity and then nothing.

Maybe this was death? Maybe Lyon would open his eyes and find himself as a ghost in a ruined town? Would his siblings be at his funeral? Most likely. Would the mystery girl? _Don't be ridiculous._

In that case, Lyon didn't want to open his eyes. Because that would confirm whether or not he was alive, and if his death was as he suspected, then the afterlife looked pretty bleak. Lyon had never really been one for religion- sure, he'd sit through a service and say a few prayers, but he'd never managed to find it in his heart to believe. The words that he muttered solemnly seemed to hold no more power than those of gypsy fortune tellers.

This uncertainty was nice. He was drifting weightlessly without responsibility.

"Juvia knew you were suspicious."

And then he was glad to open his eyes because he was alive. It was the girl from area- the one with the perfect everything. She had lost the bonnet, and her short blue hair was wild and windswept. Her dress was ripped in a most unladylike manner and she held a bloodstained knife in one hand. Another was in Fukuro's back, under her foot, gradually being pressed down as she applied weight. It was a slow way to die, he could tell that. And painful.

When the being they both despised had finally departed, she folded her arms and fixed him with a stare. "Explain."

Normally, Lyon would have either a smartass or a cool, rational response. But his face was heating up and he felt lightheaded. "H-How long have you been here?" he spluttered.

"Since you came in. Juvia slipped in afterwards. She decided to stay by the side, to leave the battle up to you- after all, she still didn't know whether or not you were an ally. But when the Prince was endangered and you were overcome, Juvia stepped in and threw a knife at the owl man- Fukuro, was it?"

Her wording was painfully blunt, and Lyon felt meek, even somewhat ashamed of his failure, like a schoolboy being scolded by his master. "Well… thanks for the save."

"Juvia didn't do it for you. She did it to protect her master- that is her duty."

There was silence. A long, pregnant, awkward silence.

"So, you work for Natsu?"

"You could say so. Now, we must set to disposing of this body…"

Lyon shook his head. "I've got a friend coming to help out. You should go." _This is no place for a lady… especially one as beautiful as you._ But of course he wasn't going to say this to the crazy knife nut who had captured his heart.

Juvia's eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth to protest before he cut her off. "Do you not have a duty to protect and watch over your master?"

She remained defiant before nodding in acceptance. "Juvia trusts you to deal with this," she deadpanned, retrieving her knife then turning on her heel towards the stairs. But before she took a step his hand shot out and he grabbed her wrist. He didn't know why he had done that- it was pure instinct, on a whim, out of the blue and beyond his control. Juvia turned, the faintest trace of surprise present on her features. She looked at him expectantly.

Holding out one finger as a sign for her to wait, Lyon reached inside his pocket and retrieved the forget-me-nots from earlier. They were crumpled and looked pathetic compared to Juvia, but they were the best he could do. Not quite sure what he was doing or of his motives, he pressed the dainty baby blue flowers into her delicate hand.

"May our paths cross again."

Her fingers wrapped around his gift as she brought it up for examination. Juvia didn't seem to know how to respond. It was funny how her cool, calm mask had cracked. Her face flicked from expression to expression in seconds, perplexed by this new, alien concept of the gift of flowers. She regained her composure and, for lack of a pocket, tucked the flowers behind her ear.

"If you are who Juvia suspects you to be, then she is sure that this will not be our only meeting."

And then she turned and made her way back outside, the tap of her boots against the stone steps painfully loud. Lyon watched her from the shadows, a small smile forming on his lips.

"Until we meet again, Juvia."

* * *

><p>Juvia blinked in the sunlight as she emerged back into the crowd. The masses were bubbly, preparing to party all night long (which was good, because nobody noticed the state of her dress). Juvia didn't consider herself to be a hero, but even she got satisfaction from thinking of the lives she had saved.<p>

Her knives were hidden within her boots, perfectly safe. In a way, that was irrational- she could have easily dumped them, as they were unwieldy to carry without her basket and her torn dress had no folds for her to conceal them. Being stingy with her weapons was a trait Juvia had picked up from her time at Phantom Lord, where losing a weapon resulted in a few days of no food and having to help forge another. She had been in the forge a few times during her early teenage years, and the heat had always made her near fainting.

Of course, as Natsu's bodyguard, she could easily buy more. But she reasoned that it was never wise to be unarmed- the more honest explanation was that old habits die hard.

How long had it been since she left Phantom Lord? Around three and a half months by now. It seemed like years ago. She was too caught up in the fast pace and adrenaline of this new life. Besides, she couldn't bring herself to feel homesick for a place that had never really been a home.

Wrapped up in these philosophical thoughts, she bumped into a man. It was only brief, and he had mumbled an apology before continuing, but it was a momentous period of time.

The man was the very embodiment of perfection. Had he not been, Juvia would have been suspicious that he was heading towards the cellar door. Had he not been, Juvia would have continued walking rather than stood in shocked silence.

Those brief few seconds of contact would be seen by Juvia as a milestone in her life.

The man she had bumped into, who had reduced her to this blushing maiden was at that time a stranger. But Juvia would soon come to know him as Prince Gray Fullbuster.

* * *

><p>"Look who we have here. May I bask in your royal presence?" Lyon said in a high, overly posh voice, bowing mockingly as the raven haired boy made his way down.<p>

His half-brother snorted. "Judging by my wandering around this town, most of Fiore's people don't recognise their own monarchy."

Lyon raised an eyebrow. "What, should all us commoners throw ourselves at your regal feet?"

"Honestly, you don't forgive easily," Gray stated, irritation tinging his voice.

"When you ask so many favours, what degree of respect can you expect?"

Gray, having reached Lyon, elbowed him playfully. "Look, I know you're mad-"

"Mad? You ask me to go save Prince Pinky's ass through a letter? I wasn't aware that you were above talking to filth such as me," Lyon said, arms folded. His gaze drifted to the floor- it appeared that Juvia must have stamped out Fukuro's match. So that was it.

"Look, Lyon, you know I've been busy. Things have been pretty hectic lately…" he said, stripping off his shirt. Lyon couldn't help but smirk- his tutors had all tried to rid Gray of this odd habit, but it always resurfaced in private.

"Heir to the throne, living in the palace, lap of luxury, beautiful women of high birth throwing themselves at you- what a difficult life you lead, poor Prince Fullbuster," The snowy haired boy replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. Gray shot a glare at him.

"How about a pushy, obsessive sister who'll stop at nothing to get my ass on that goddamned throne? She doesn't give me time to breathe," he sighed. "Speaking of Ultear, she'll be pretty damn pissed if she finds out what we did. We'll have the body moved tomorrow night- people will be partying for the rest of the evening and undoubtedly into the early hours of the morning."

Lyon told him that Gray had to help him find his sword if they were to continue the conversation, so the two got down and started searching before Lyon asked him a question.

"Exactly how long are you willing to go on like this? Ultear's gonna find out sooner or later. You can't keep on sending people – well, sending _me_ – to interfere with her plans. Besides, don't you want to be king?"

This was a question that the Prince had been posed with many a time. Yet Gray still took his time contemplating this question. In fact, he didn't speak until Lyon had sheathed his sword. When he spoke, he did so slowly, as though even he wasn't sure of his answer.

"I want to be king. I just don't want to have to kill my brother to do it."

Lyon sat on one of the steps, looking at his sibling and best friend with a deadly serious gaze. "Gray, you can't play the nice guy forever."

The dark haired young man shook his head. "That's not it," he seated himself next to Lyon, hand balled into a fist that he was staring intently at. "Look at history. People who kill and deceive to obtain the throne never last, they're always the despised ones. If Natsu were to die and I was crowned, nobody would trust me as a king. I'd be seen as corrupt, greedy, a liar and a cheat. No, the best way to gain the title of ruler is through honest means. It is those monarchs that people in times to come smile upon.

"That aside… Natsu and I grew up together. Sure, we don't always get along, but he doesn't deserve to die just because he was born to Grandine rather than Ur."

The two sat in silence, digesting this speech. Gray had rehearsed it many times, knew it back to front and inside out. This was him finally explaining his motives. Now that it was out in the open, he wasn't so sure.

Lyon wanted to ask if Gray knew of a girl called Juvia. He wanted to know absolutely every scrap of information concerning her that Gray may have ever come across. But he didn't, because this was a moment of familial bonding.

"So," Gray said, "You with me?"

The snowy haired man turned to him, a genuine, fond smile on his face. "Always."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, when I wrote this chapter, I was expecting it to end up quite short. Not this.<strong>

**So, our Clover Festival arc draws to a close, but the mysteries are still there! Ultear has been revealed as Trinity Raven's client, but there are still unanswered questions. Who is Lucy, and what is her history with Natsu? What about Jellal? And, the biggest mystery of all- when will the next update be?**

**Okay, so the last one was a joke, but I'd like to hear all of your theories.**

**This chapter is dedicated to the fantabulous xporcelain with whom I have spent many an hour flailing about Pandora Hearts, satisfying my impulses to procrastinate in doing so.**

**Of course, hugs and cookies and rainbows and all that go to Secret Agent Codename Bob, my friend and beta with whom I have spent many an hour getting myself brutally slaughtered in Alice: Madness Returns with.**

**And, as a little end note, I'm helping out a real-life friend of mine, Ladder in My Tights, for writing a NaLu fanfic called **_**Fourteen Days of Hell. **_**It's still in its early stages and in no way perfect, but reviews and constructive criticism would be amazing.**

***end le rambling author's note***

**Until next time!**

**~Meg**


	7. Knight in Battered Armour

**AN: I love all of your reviews! They make me fuzzy and happy and all.**

_**Disclaimer: Do I still need to write this? Whatever. I don't own Fairy Tail.**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>~ Knight in Battered Armour ~<strong>_

Her skirts swished with every purposeful stride, inky black eyes sweeping over her surroundings. Servants and aristocrats alike murmured and scuttled respectfully aside in her eyes- in theirs, they were retreating to safety from a rampaging monster. She didn't care for their motives as long as they were out of her way.

The young woman was almost always in a foul mood about something or other, and few were spared from her shrewd, sadistic nature. It was most unladylike, but none dared to mention this for fear of her temper. Today she had a goal and lord have mercy on any obstruction, be it accidental or otherwise.

Eventually, she made it to the servant's quarters. She found it odd that, of all the places he was offered, he chose to share with the staff. But he was a strange man, and she was willing to tolerate that out of necessity.

The moment she entered the dining hall, people scattered, scurrying away as they did whenever she or a member of her family entered this area. It always meant business.

She grabbed onto a servant before she could leave- a teenager, only a year or so younger than herself. "I request to have my chamber cleaned again: the maids have done a terrible job of it."

The younger girl looked at her with wide eyes. She must have been new. "With all due respect, I work in the kitch-"

A good hard slap to the face had her apologising and swiftly making her departure, tears in her eyes and the print of a hand in angry red.

The noblewoman took a second to breathe and calm herself before turning to him. He was the only being in the room that had not fled at the sight of her, staring instead. His eyes were different to hers- whilst she had eyes that were witchy and intimidating, his seemed more sombre and melancholy. They always had her on edge, she who was used to either obedience or plain venom. His gaze was tinged with subtle defiance, which she despised.

He made no comment on her mistreatment of the poor other girl, though she could sense his distaste. She sat across from him, wondering if he found it amusing to make a woman of high birth sit in the servant's quarters. If he did, he was doing a fantastic job of masking his pleasure.

"I want to talk to you," she said curtly.

He shrugged. "Then talk."

There was a pause between them as she narrowed her eyes, feeling as though he was trying to humiliate her. The worst thing was that she didn't have the power to punish him.

_Keep classy, keep dignified._

She laced her fingers together, leaning in, the faintest wisp of a smile on her lips in anticipation of finally setting something into motion.

"We have a mission for you."

* * *

><p>"Erza?"<p>

The red haired woman looked up from what she was doing to see the familiar face of none other than Juvia. It was the day after the festival, with the pair setting off for home that evening.

Erza had to admit, she had been surprised when Juvia returned with her dress torn and a clump of forget-me-nots. The maid had insisted that it was nothing important, claimed that she got the flowers from a street seller. Erza knew better, of course, and smiled to think that Juvia might have an admirer somewhere. The one time she had suggested that, it had sent the younger girl into silence with such a perplexed expression that it was laughable.

Now, however, Juvia's face was serious. When Erza invited her in, she stood stiffly, eyes darting around the room as if expecting an enemy to jump out at any moment.

"What's wrong, Juvia?" Erza asked, getting up with concern for her friend.

There was a slight pause before the other woman spoke. "If you will forgive me asking… Erza, who is Jellal?"

If the knight held any sort of surprise to this question, she had no expression betraying this. "Natsu-"

"Yes. He has been asking."

Erza's face was stony, fixed in a neutral expression. Even her voice was hard, as though her life hung on her words. "Jellal is dead."

Even she wasn't sure as to whether or not that sentence was true.

* * *

><p><em>Erza hung her head as the others (pitiful beings, bony and desperate) fought and howled over the scraps of food that had been thrown to them. Her hair – odd hair, red as rubies – just about managed to shield her face and remove them from her line of sight. It was a mess, a great big tousled mess, but at least she didn't have to see these animalistic beings in their raw, primitive frenzy. Even so, she wasn't in that good a state herself.<em>

_Those left behind were the castoffs. People wanted their slaves to be young adults. Strong men for work, pretty women for pleasure. Even most of the children had been accepted for unskilled labour that would most likely ruin their health and drive them to their graves prematurely (but when Erza thought about it, she realised they wouldn't even have graves and in her eyes that was the worst of it.). But some had been rejected. The old, the lame and Erza._

_During the raid, she had lost her right eye to the man who killed her mother. When customers saw a ragged, scrawny pre-teen with an eyepatch, they shrugged and moved on to the next slave. After all, none of them wanted to buy damaged goods. It had taken Erza a long time to come to terms with it, but she had eventually come to accept that she had become such- nothing but an object._

_On the other hand, her lost eye was a help. Not even children were safe from the perverse market (indeed, Erza had witnessed many an unfortunate youth being sold for 'entertainment') but her defiled beauty meant that they carried on after a glance. Such a defect was actually what kept her away from the worst of it._

_In her time with the slave market, Erza had learned what you definitely didn't want to be sold into. Prostitution was a debated one- some argued that brothel life wasn't all too bad, that with any luck you could catch the eye of a rich man and all trouble would be a thing of the past. But the very thought of it made her stomach churn._

_Ribbon making, that was another bad one. The sound of it was pleasant; it conjured up images of blushing ladies in pretty dresses, dainty balls and the height of elegance. True, that was the finished product, and yes, just sitting there turning a hand loom didn't sound too bad. But it was that endless whirling that caused suffering, messed up your brain and spine and sent you spiralling into the afterlife. Ribbon making made mine work look like paradise._

_Of course it wasn't all doom. Some made it as house slaves and actually had quite pleasant lives. Others were personal assistants or, if they were skilled enough, they could hold high ranking positions._

_But they were also ornaments, and nobody wanted Erza on their mantelpiece._

_Another con of her ruined eye- she could only ever cry half of her tears whilst the rest built up, waiting for the dam to burst and for Erza to break down._

* * *

><p><em>Shackles clinked and dug into her skin as they were loaded in. From what conversation Erza had picked up, they were to work at a mill spinning cotton. That didn't seem too bad, at least it didn't bend your brain or strip you of what rags of dignity remained.<em>

_Loaded into the cart, in the dark like cattle a thin shaft provided ventilation and light. Erza leaned against the side as they bumped and tossed. But that was the least of Erza's concerns._

"_Why the long face?"_

_The red haired girl started, turning to the speaker- a boy around her age. She couldn't make out much in the strip of light, but he was beaming at her. His hair seemed blue (she couldn't tell what shade), his eyes evergreen. On his face was some kind of mark or tattoo- a tribal thing perhaps? Erza didn't dwell on it. This kid was smiling and that was like a breath of fresh air._

_She couldn't think of what to say, but he carried on anyway. "Cool eyepatch! Does it have some power?" he joked. Erza couldn't help but let out an awkward chuckle._

"_No…but I wish it could."_

"_Yeah! Then you could use your magic eye to get us out of here!"_

_Others in the cart turned to stare at the two kids howling with laughter at a joke that hadn't even been that funny. For some reason this boy seemed to_glow _and it was_magnificent.

"_What's your name?" he asked._

"_Erza."_

_He tilted his head to the side. "What's your surname?"_

_She shrugged. Back on Tenrou Island, they hadn't needed surnames._

"_Hmm…" his hands were shackled, but he nodded to her red hair."I'll call you Scarlet. Erza Scarlet."_

_For some reason, it fitted perfectly. "And you are?"_

"_Jellal Fernandes, at your service!"_

* * *

><p>He was her guiding light.<p>

_When night fell and the rest huddled up on filthy mattresses, Jellal and Erza were on the roof. They were nimble enough to scramble up. It seemed as though they were on top of the world, and Jellal would spin wild tales of them flying off into the distance to freedom._

She was his guardian angel.

_Erza was not a perky girl. She wasn't bright and bubbly. But she dreamed because he did and it was actually enjoyable despite the fact that it was as useless as her right eye. There were lots of things that Erza didn't know- that she was beautiful, that she was one of the strongest people he had ever met, that just a glance from her was enough to make Jellal feel as though he was floating. That, so long as Erza was by his side, nothing could ever go wrong in the world._

He was her strength.

_Jellal's spirit was unbreakable, no doubt about it. Without him, Erza would have cracked and lost it. Her dam would have broken and she'd be a dried out husk like the others. But it was their little night rendezvous' that kept her going through the days. And the days turned into weeks, months, years working in that cotton hellhole. But each hour spent together felt like minutes, whilst the work day dragged out for eternity. Had she not lost all hope in the supernatural, she would say that he was magic._

She was his hope.

_He wasn't a dashing hero, but she was willing to cling onto him. Jellal Fernandes, the boy whose family were quarantined from disease. Who was the only survivor, sitting amongst the dead bodies of his siblings. Who was deemed evil, tattooed as a sign of his sin and sold on the slave market. Who was shunned as an outcast even among slaves because he hadn't shared their trauma, he'd experienced his own kind. But Erza didn't care for all that. She was special, accepting. It was all irrelevant to her. All that mattered was that he told her stories and that they could share moments on a rooftop together._

_The turning point was when they were roughly fourteen. The odd pair sat that night with their legs dangling over the edge of the roof. It was an overcast grey night, not the picturesque full moon one would hope for. But if being slaves had taught them anything, it was that they should cherish anything, even if it was near-perfect._

"_What if-" Jellal started. They always had these. 'What if the moon chose us to live on it', 'what if we turned into birds and never left the sky', 'what if we were actually long-lost royalty'. Erza sometimes joined in, but she was not the most imaginative of girls. Her virtue lay into her down-to-earth nature. So Jellal finished the sentence. "-an angel swooped down and took us to paradise!"_

_He was surprised to see Erza shake her head, and asked why not._

_Erza shrugged, tucking her short scarlet locks behind her ear. "I don't think I would trust an angel that's taken this long to come."_

_It was at that point that Jellal decided: he would save her and be her knight in shining armour._

* * *

><p>"Not bad, Natsu," Juvia said in mild surprise as he blocked her blow with his forearm. "As Juvia predicted- you finally learned to block rather than just evade."<p>

Her pupil grinned at her. "After yesterday, I've gotta up my game, y'know?"

His maid took a step back, brushing down her skirt. "Juvia believes that is all the sparring we need for today."

When Natsu turned to leave, she stopped him. He turned and Juvia, having finally salvaged whatever from her apron, held two things out to him.

Natsu snatched them before inspecting the two metal objects. "Knuckledusters?"

Juvia nodded. "If yesterday is anything to go by, you must be able to defend yourself at least at a basic level. Juvia believes that those simple weapons would be of great use to you."

The pink haired prince seemed unable to speak for a minute. Slowly, cautiously, he put on his new gifts, flexing his fingers experimentally before breaking out into his trademark toothy grin.

"I'm all fired up!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Uh. Why does my mind refuse to let me write for weeks, then force me to stay up ridiculously late writing? It's not fair!<strong>

**This chapter is dedicated to the procrastination station that is Tumblr.**

**As has become routine, hugs and kisses and rainbows and prancing unicorns go to Secret Agent Codename Bob for beta-ing.**

**Au revoir!**

**~Meg**

_EDIT: It seems that I got Jellal's eye color wrong. Oops. I was writing at 1 am, I apologize._


	8. Weapons of Self Destruction

**AN: I swear to Zeref that I will stop writing fillers. I promise. One day, I'll stop spewing out fluffy backstories and actually get on with the story.**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail. Never have and never will.**_

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><p><em><strong>~ Weapons of Self Destruction ~<strong>_

"I guess I'm too young to go to the ball, aren't I?" the young princess muttered, absentmindedly stroking her pet cat. "I shouldn't be surprised. After all, I'm not even eligible to marry."

The white feline simply mewed. Wendy straightened, getting up from her seat and leaning against the balcony. All over the palace gardens servants were rushing to and fro, snipping this and planting that and mowing this and painting that. And that was only in the gardens- inside wasn't much better. There was such frenzy for the event that was well over a week away.

A slight breeze ruffled her long hair – she liked wearing it down, though her governess disapproved – as she daydreamed. The weather was serene, blue skies and a shining sun. Usually, when the nobility gathered in the gardens, Wendy would find a way to slink into the secluded areas, where there was only her and Charle. Her governess, the prim and proper Lady Polyursica, would always try her best to watch over her. Sometimes, Wendy thought there was nothing her governess approved of.

But that would be an incorrect assumption. Polyursica may not have been warm and loving and she was certainly no forgiving teacher, especially when it came to basic etiquette, but she had taught something that Wendy would otherwise never have learnt- apothecary. She showed Wendy the herbs, how they could harness nature's healing if used correctly. How they could cure you of a cold, settle a fever, disinfect a wound and even heal motion sickness. Such practices were thought of by most as crazy, but all had to admit that Polyursica's concoctions were a great help.

Wendy's world consisted of three main people- Polyursica, Charle and strangers.

It used to be a lot livelier back when her brother still lived at the court. Natsu was strong, fearless, absolutely solid in his resolve and such a contrast to little shy and demure Wendy. There were others who hadn't left, but they were too entwined with their own problems. Ultear occasionally paid visits to her younger stepsister, but they seemed to be protocol rather than of actual fondness. The elder noblewoman had a gaze that bore into Wendy and made her feel vulnerable. Somehow, whether it was in those midnight eyes, her body language or even in her perfectly polite voice, Wendy got the feeling that Ultear held strong dislike for her.

Wendy was twelve years old. She was far from marriage, but betrothal wasn't unimaginable. She was a princess with two older brothers and no hope of ever ascending to the throne. Unlike Natsu and Gray, who were locked in a battle and constantly trying to twist fate, Wendy's future was linear and predetermined. Eventually, her father would find a suitable man to betroth her to. A portrait would be sent and, if Wendy was pleasing, a betrothal would be made. If she was lucky, Wendy would be able to see her potential husband once or twice before she was promised to him in marriage. If she was extremely fortunate, he would be somewhere near her age.

After a good few betrothals called off, one would last. Wendy would be married, produce children and die without leaving her mark on history.

She wasn't complaining. The life of a royal was plush and she couldn't imagine existing otherwise. This young princess was grateful for everything, for a life of little danger. But for some reason she just wasn't content with this, with never being able to choose anything.

Tucking a strand of navy hair behind her ear, Wendy looked to the sky, to the wispy clouds drifting. Here in this gilded cage, she couldn't help but irrationally dream of freedom.

"You understand, don't you, Charle?" she said, having confessed this all to her cat for what had to be the fiftieth time. Charle couldn't talk back, but it was comforting to have a confidante, human or not. "I want to… I guess I want to be useful. To be more than just the little sister, you know?"

She was surprised when the white cat hissed, arching her back and spitting at her. Such behaviour was uncharacteristic of her pet, and she took it as a sign that she should hurry up before Polyursica arrived.

Little did the young princess know that someone else had heard her heartfelt speech, and that she had already unwittingly affected her supposedly straightforward future.

* * *

><p>"<em>Jellal, it will never work!" Erza exclaimed. Her best friend quickly shoved a hand over her mouth to silence her. They sat still for seconds before exhaling in relief that nobody had heard her outburst.<em>

_He removed his hand. "Why not?" he asked. "They'd let anyone join the army- even escaped slaves!"_

_Erza counted on her fingers. "We're underage, we don't know how to fight and oh yes, and I'm a girl!"_

"_You know they're loose with the sixteen policy. And we'll learn how to fight."_

_She hissed in irritation. "Maybe you can join, but there's no way a woman can enrol!" she paused before sighing. "So go, get out of here."_

_He took her by surprise, grabbing her by the shoulders and looking her straight in the eye. "No. I'm not leaving you behind."_

"_But how?"_

_Jellal took a step back, inspecting his friend. At fourteen, she was starting to develop into adulthood. But Erza was still in her early stages of becoming a woman- her figure was yet to become curvaceous, her breasts not yet apparent._

_"You can manage. Cut your hair, lower your voice and watch your step. It's only until we get enough to live, right?"_

"_We could die." she counteracted_

"_We _will_ die one day. But would you rather die in battle, fighting for our honour and country or as slaves spinning cotton?"_

_Erza was silent before she spoke firmly, her quick mind taking over. "We'd have to get hold of a knife to cut my hair. And I'll need to change my name to something more masculine, but recognisable. A variation of Erza. And we'll need to hide that tattoo of yours, it's too suspicious. Maybe an eyepatch?"_

_Jellal laughed. "Then we'd match!"_

_She managed a smile before continuing. "No, an eyepatch would never cover it. We'll just have to hope that nobody's too critical of it. So we can-" Erza went silent when Jellal held out his hand to her._

"_You in?" he asked, needing an answer before they planned._

_Erza nodded without hesitation. "Of course."_

* * *

><p><em>They made a good team, Jellal and 'Erzon'. During those early days when they were just training, it was more as though they were in a club rather than an army. They made friends, they learned and they were fed. And, as it turned out, Erza didn't have to worry about her gender being revealed- Jellal had her back like always.<em>

_Their first battle wasn't too bad, though Erza would always cherish the memory of Jellal's face when he had come storming into the infirmary to find that she was only being treated for a flesh wound. But, as she discovered the next battle when Jellal ended up with a gash down his arm, having a wounded friend was the most terrifying experience one could go through._

_The pair weren't just a "friend" team, they also became warriors. They were easily the best fighters in their unit despite a total lack of previous experience. Individually they were impressive, but together they were practically unstoppable._

_They didn't need to say 'I love you'._

_Eventually, Erza had earned such respect that her masquerade was no longer needed. This brought in a whole set of complications- a few finding it a scandal that a woman was allowed in the army whilst others set their sights on her._

_Jellal managed to ward off any advances despite the fact that Erza was perfectly capable of doing so herself. After all, it was a knight's duty to protect his princess from lecherous dragons._

_But then a choice was made. A tough battle had left the army beaten and more dead than usual. Jellal and Erza were hurriedly promoted to corporal, each leading their own squad. It was to be the first time that they fought separately._

_The night before – or was it the morning? – he had kissed her._

_That day was a bloody massacre._

* * *

><p>"<em>He's not dead!" Erza shrieked into the commander's face, hands balled into shaking fists. "You said that you couldn't find his body!"<em>

"_Erza, do you have any idea how many bodies there are? If someone doesn't come back, they're dead. We're too busy caring for the wounded to go searching for Jellal."_

_She had tears in her eyes, tears of pain and frustration and sorrow. "That's still not proof! Jellal was an amazing fighter…"_

_He looked at her in pity. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said as though he were speaking to a widow before leaving._

_Erza sat down, the initial shock sinking in and crushing her insides. She hung her head in her hands, hair flopping over (she had only just started growing it back). This was wrong, wrong, completely and utterly wrong. Jellal was strong. Too strong and too bright to die._

_**He'll come back **__she thought. __**He'll come back with an eyepatch and joke that we match. He'll tell me how he heroically fought off hundreds of enemies singlehandedly and that he's done with this whole army thing. And we'll go off and join a circus or become gypsies or something. And he'll be alive.**_

_She spun the tale wilder and wilder, each sentence becoming more and more absurd until it sounded like she was writing a nursery rhyme. And soon she was thinking aloud and her voice was cracking until she abandoned words and wept instead._

_But this would be the only time she would cry. She was Cpl. Erza Scarlet, one of the youngest to ever receive such a rank and certainly the only woman. She had to be strong, to rid herself of gender conventions and hold her own in a man's world. She couldn't show weakness and she certainly couldn't shed tears._

_Despite this resolve she continued to cry, determined to shed all the tears that she would ever need. Once again, Erza was alone._

* * *

><p>"Have a safe journey." Erza said, smiling warmly at Juvia. The younger woman bowed but groaned.<p>

"We're out of Polyursica's Troia medicine…"

"If Natsu's puking gets out of hand, knock him out."

From the carriage, Natsu shouted out in protest, to which Juvia replied that she was coming. "Juvia hopes that our next meeting will be soon."

"So do I."

When the prince and his maid had left, Erza sighed and retired inside. She wasn't in the mood for sword practice even though her battle against Ikaruga should have probably been taken as a sign that she still had room for improvement. But her thoughts were too tangled and she had to work to prise the knots apart.

She knew that Jellal being alive was just wishful thinking. It was stupid and irrational and she just had to admit that _Jellal was dead. _She had acknowledged that when she agreed to having a fake eye and given up on him coming back and joking about her hidden magic.

Her dangerous train of thought that could have possibly led to _blatant lies _was interrupted when there was a timid knock at the door, behind which there was a maid.

"Umm… Dame Scarlet, there is a letter for you."

Erza nodded and thanked her, taking the letter and waiting for her to leave before inspecting it. Her name was written in elegant script, and the wax seal bore an insignia that she recognised- the image of a winged creature (probably a phoenix) taking flight. It was the seal of Fiore's royal family, the Dragneels.

Reaching for her letter knife, she quickly opened it and took out the message. She read it once and then again before putting it down, a small smile on her face.

"A ball at the palace? What an honour."

* * *

><p>As Natsu's head hung out the window whilst he puked, Juvia twiddled her thumbs absentmindedly. The forget-me-nots were wilted, but she still had them in the pocket of her apron. At the moment, matters that she would normally consider trivial were twisted and confusing.<p>

This silver haired man (Lyon Bastia, if his conversation with Fukuro that she had overheard was anything to go by) obviously had some obligation to protect Natsu. But what were his motives- revenge on his siblings? Hope to be held in esteem by the future king?

She didn't know, but she owed much to that man. Were it not for him, she almost certainly would not have located the gunpowder filled basement in time and her master would have been blown to pieces (not a pretty thought). Of course, since he knew about that basement that would indicate that he had some means of obtaining information. Much to Juvia's irritation, neither she, Natsu nor Erza had an inkling of information pertaining to who had sent those assassins. But Lyon probably had some connection to them if he had known the plan. What if his motives weren't so pure as they were greed? What if he was trying to thwart another's attempt to kill the prince only to do so himself?

Juvia began to drift away from these theories to the man she had run into. Now that she looked back on it, he had been heading for the basement, so he was likely to be the 'friend' that Lyon had mentioned. How had she not noticed that before?

Oh yes, because the man was inexplicably handsome and endowed with the ability to reduce her to a blushing, moronic teenager, stripping away eight years of assassin training within a few seconds.

In fact, she was red faced even thinking of it, although she convinced herself that this blush was out of shame.

One thing was certain- this man was somehow connected to Lyon, so it was likely that they would meet again. Next time, Juvia would be different: calm, composed and once again emotionless rather than overcome by some strange and alien feeling.

Having come to this conclusion, she returned her attentions to attempting to nurse a motion sick Natsu.

* * *

><p>In a carriage far ahead travelling to a different destination, two brothers sat in silence. Lyon was staring out the window in thought whilst Gray looked positively bored as he tried with all his might to be engrossed in some book about the history of the Heartfilias (alas, to no avail). That is, until Lyon asked something.<p>

"What do you know about a girl called Juvia?"

Gray looked up at his illegitimate brother. "Pardon?"

"A girl called Juvia. A really pretty girl with blue hair and eyes and-"

"Haven't you heard any of the rumours?"

Lyon's heart sank. "There are lots of rumours…"

"I don't know if it's the Juvia that you're thinking of, but popular gossip states that a woman called Juvia Lockser is Natsu's mistress," Gray stated matter-of-factly.

There was a short silence before Lyon spoke. "I don't think she's his mistress."

Gray looked up in surprise. "How would you- Lyon, did you-"

"No!" his brother replied hurriedly, waving his hands around. "Oh, it's not like I- like we-"

"Spit it out!" the raven haired prince said, half teasing half curious.

After calming down, Lyon continued. "Well… when I was in Clover, there was this girl who I ran into. And later on, well, she kind of ended up saving my ass."

Gray chuckled. "You got your ass saved by a girl?"

"It was a very difficult situation, your royal douchebagness. And… well, I doubt any old mistress could be so handy with a knife."

At this, the prince became serious. "So what does that make her?"

Lyon shrugged. "I don't know. But she's more than what the rumours say, that's for sure."

They stared at each other for a moment, each challenging the other to speak before simply going back to what they had been doing.

The two brothers didn't know much about this Juvia Lockser, but each was determined to find out.

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><p><strong>AN: Holy mother of Mavis, how did I write this so fast?<strong>

**Well, after rereading the Jellal and Erza section I have come to the conclusion that I am a sadist who likes making her protagonists' lives miserable.**

**Umm… apart from conspiracy theories, here's one for fun: brainstorm sarcastic names for Lyon to refer to Gray as, such as 'Your royal douchebagness'. Because I'm unimag- I mean interested in what you'll come up with.**

**~Meg**


	9. Good Intentions

**AN: Writing fanfiction when I have exams in three days = Best idea ever.**

**And I've looked up the Fairy Tail wiki spelling- from now on, Wendy's governess is ****Porlyusica. ****Throw rotten tomatoes at me if I write it otherwise.**

**Warning- this chapter is kind of a filler so that we don't rush in with the story. Bear with me, please?**

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Fairy Tail. However, I do own the plot of this particular AU story.**_

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><p><em><strong>~ Good Intentions ~<strong>_

"It's a bad idea," the man said without missing a beat. His muscular arms were folded as he flashed a disapproving glance towards his drink. All around the tavern, people of a grimy nature were traversing- flirting, drinking and brawling. He hated taverns, but they always made good meeting places.

His companion, a man with a mane of wild fair hair and eyes that seemed like whirlpools of pure madness, simply leaned further forward and grinned. "Aww, Caprico, you're no fun. You can't achieve anything without spilling a little blood, don't ya know?"

The barmaid serving them paid no heed to their conversation. A fair amount of crime went on in the more grotty areas of the city, and she was probably used to overhearing many a plot. She wouldn't care so long as she was paid enough to eat and sleep.

"She's totally innocent. Dragging her into this would be wrong."

"It'll be a learning experience for her! Come on, isn't the best way to learn by doing?"

"Zancrow, you're psychotic."

The man's face darkened. "Caprico... Don't you know not to get on the bad side of Grimoire Heart like Zoldeo did?"

He leaned back, arms out as a sign of surrender. "You know I'll go with whatever happens, but that won't stop me making my point. Meredy and Ultear are against it too."

Zancrow snorted. "Ultear's no member- she's a phoney, I know it. And Meredy will do whatever she says. Drinks that bitch's words like they're the liquor of life." He raised his drink and chugged it back.

Caprico sighed in defeat. "If you're sure… who's on pick up duty?"

The blonde man's face lit up for all the wrong reasons. "Now we're talking."

Having finally finished, the barmaid nodded and wished them a good day before leaving. Caprico snorted. "What inefficient service."

She returned to the bar- then into the grimy back room, then out through the door and down the dark alleyway, shivering in the cold night air. This was stupid. She would probably die, or worse. Her heart was thudding loud enough to drown out anybody's footsteps.

She almost screamed when a hand was placed over her mouth. Shivering in fright, the barmaid turned. Her tension diminished, if only slightly, when she saw the vaguely familiar face.

He removed his hand, content that she would remain quiet (although she remained rigid and regarded him with a wary gaze), and reached into his pocket before coming out with the money. She stared at it with longing, her head filled with thousands of possibilities.

"Now," he said, voice low and dark green eyes flitting around to check that nobody was listening. "Tell me what you heard."

* * *

><p>"Natsu!" Juvia snapped, cuffing him over the head, "We're almost there!"<p>

The travelsick royal pain in the neck groaned, still sprawled out limply across the seats. As Juvia had discovered, Natsu had terrible motion sickness. Porlyusica's Troia medicine seemed to be the only thing that had ever enabled him to do so much as set foot on a vehicle. She could only be glad that this visit to the royal court would replenish their stock.

The Royal Court.

Those words were odd. It was like she was talking about Mount Olympus- such a place seemed surreal, out of the grasp of mere mortals and beyond her reach. Like a dream world, it conjured up images of smiling young ladies in pretty dresses dancing with dashing young men. It implied grandeur and beauty, to the point that she wouldn't have been surprised if the path was paved with gold.

Of course it wasn't, but Juvia couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the building. Historical but beautiful, its traditional architecture. And it was huge, larger than she could have ever imagined. But, remembering her resolve, she did not allow herself to betray any emotion.

"Hate… vehicles…" Natsu groaned as Juvia pulled him upright. She briefly entertained the idea of Erza's suggestion to knock him out cold, but decided against it.

"We're here. Go on, meet-"

She was surprised to see that nobody but a few servants had come to meet them. Wasn't there usually supposed to be some grand procession? Juvia was struck with the realisation that this was an entirely new world- she had been guarding the prince for almost five months, but she knew nothing of his life besides the fact that he had to keep on living it. All she knew of royalty came from wild tales.

The carriage came to a gentle halt and, in a matter of seconds, Natsu was once again up and running.

Juvia didn't think she'd ever really understand him.

* * *

><p>"There is a visitor for the Princess, ma'am."<p>

Wendy didn't bother looking up from her sewing- she wasn't in the mood for another of Ultear's visits. She didn't want to sit up and shiver with every glance. Even being in Porlyusica's company was preferable.

Luckily, her governess seemed to think the same. "Shouldn't that Ice girl be busy? Tell her that the Princess has no time for her. She's not in charge here."

The servant fidgeted slightly and then straightened when the woman snapped at him. "W-well, milady, it's not the Lady Ultear if that's what you're-"

Porlyusica's eyes narrowed and she looked ready to stab him. Wendy on the other hand looked up, face illuminated with excitement, ignoring the fact she had slipped with her sewing and now had a needle stuck in her hand. "Who is it?" she asked eagerly before being silenced by the icy stare of her governess.

The elderly woman sighed in defeat. "It had better be the king." She muttered before turning away.

Another voice came out, one that was male and so familiar to Wendy that her smile widened- if that was even possible.

"Maybe not, but it's the future king!"

"Natsu!" she sang, casually yanking the needle out of her hand and running to hug him. She had grown, but so had he and he was still considerably taller. In fact, they hadn't seen each other for three years, since she was nine, but it felt as though nothing had changed. Of course things were different, even the sheltered little princess knew that.

But despite that he still gave her a bear hug and she still giggled and he was still her big brother. Wendy buried her face in his shoulder, taking it all in; his scent was earthy and laced with a tinge of honeysuckle, just like she remembered. He still had the same salmon pink hair in the same messy cut, the same milky jade eyes. She felt light and airy, happy that life had returned to the palace.

"You've grown, Wendy," he laughed. "Soon every prince in the world will want to marry you!"

It was a touchy subject for both of them, but that was why they were able to smile about it- each knew what implications the word 'marry' had upon them.

He let her down, the same broad grin on his face that had cheered her many a time, and sensed the glare of her governess. Indeed, Porlyusica's glare could be likened to nothing else but daggers of ice boring into him. And she was reaching for that cursed broom…

The woman would have probably attempted to chase the prince out had Wendy not spoken. For she had noticed someone that Natsu brought with him- a girl, certainly no older than him, standing a respectful distance away. Her clothing was that of a servant's. Wendy was intrigued- not because this sinewy girl was beautiful, but because she was watching with a straight face. How did Natsu know her?

Her brother and governess stopped their bickering when they saw what she was looking at. Natsu grinned, indicating to the girl. "Sorry, Wendy! This is-"

"Juvia is his highness' humble servant," she finished, curtseying to the younger girl in respect. Wendy's mouth would have been agape- a servant interrupting a prince? "I must ask a favour of the Lady Porlyusica."

The elder woman turned around and snapped. "What?"

"We seem to be lacking in your excellent Troia medicine… it makes travelling exceedingly inconvenient."

At that the woman seemed to become more accepting, her glare notably less murderous as she offered Juvia to accompany her whilst she collected the necessary herbs. Natsu declared that he wanted to come too, so of course Wendy tagged along.

Nothing her brother said or did could take the girl's eyes away from Juvia. Wendy wasn't sure whether she approved of this young girl, this strange girl who Natsu treated like an old friend yet regarded the world with the same unwavering blank stare. This strange Juvia Lockser, whom she had never before seen in her life.

Wendy wasn't sure whether she trusted this girl, but she certainly didn't know her.

She squeezed Natsu's hand, turning around to him with wide, thoughtful eyes. "You're going to the ball, right?"

"Yeah, of course."

The girl bit her lip. "What are you going to do if you meet Lucy?"

* * *

><p>"So you want to come to the ball?"<p>

Lyon snorted. "I didn't know you held such interest in my pursuits, Ul."

"Don't call me that!" the young woman barked, snapping her fan closed and whisking around to glare at her half-brother. She glared at him for a second before regaining her composure, putting on a sweet smile. "I was simply curious. After your disappearance last week, it's only natural for me to want to know what my baby brother is up to."

The snowy haired main exhaled. He couldn't let slip to Ultear where he had been- he wasn't even supposed to know that she hired those assassins. "I'm an adult, you know."

That was how they communicated- through subtext, the unspoken. "I know you are. So is Gray. But I'm always going to be your sister," she began absentmindedly fanning herself despite the fact that there was no real need. Ultear liked that fan- Lyon almost never saw her without it. It was pretty enough, decorated with a pattern of violet roses. Ultear claimed that it reminded her of their mother. She changed the subject. "You know, the king is so obstinate, not letting little Wendy go to the ball."

"Whatever you've got planned, don't."

Ultear hissed. "Lyon! You know I'm not going to do anything."

"Wouldn't put it past you."

She sighed. "I keep asking Igneel to let her go, but he dismisses her. Too preoccupied with whores to care for his daughter, if rumors are anything to go by."

"Why do you want her there."

Once again, much to Lyon's annoyance, Ultear changed the subject.

"It's a shame Gray couldn't make that parade," she said, voice betraying no emotion.

"Indeed, the parade went smoothly."

"Yes… nevertheless, I doubt that alone is enough to elevate Natsu onto the throne."

Lyon eyed her warily. He knew why she was obsessed with making Gray king- she was doing it in her mother's memory. In her eyes, Grandine had done nothing good for her life and therefore the idea of her son inheriting the throne was unfathomable. "I'm sure Gray has a fighting chance."

"A fighting chance?" Ultear's voice had an edge to it, almost undetectable. "Don't forget our trump card. Yes, we have a chance. A good one at that."

The young man's eyes narrowed. "Trump card? We're referring to a real person here. Don't act like she's just a pawn in your plot."

Ultear whipped around, fixing him with an icy glare. "What plot?" Once again, the fan was snapped closed (she had a habit of doing that whenever she got angry). "I'm trying to give my brother what is his by right. That's not a plot. That's my duty to mother, to Gray, to you."

Lyon hissed in frustration, knowing that none of his arguments would get through to her, and turned to leave.

But then Ultear spoke up. Her voice was now soft, uncharacteristically so. "Lyon… have you ever heard of Grimoire Heart?"

"No."

"Oh."

And that was all.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Pardon my filler, I just didn't want to rush into the ball. Next chapter will have more content, I swear.<strong>


	10. Equilibrium

**AN: Now. Now I stop writing le fillers.**

* * *

><p><strong>~ Equilibrium ~<strong>

Juvia frowned, abandoning the hair ornament that she had spent at least ten minutes battling with to stop the infernal thing slipping out. It was pretty enough, as was her dress- certainly the finest she could ever hope to wear – but she was beginning to regret cutting off her cerulean curls. Now her hair was short, like a pixie's. Practical, yes, but hardly easy to style. There would be no hairpins, pretty braids or even simple buns for Juvia.

She brushed down her skirt. Juvia hadn't worn such a long skirt in years. As a child, all her clothes were hand-me-downs that eventually became too small. As an assassin, she dressed like a man, her clothing as practical yet inconspicuous as possible (back then, her curled hair had been her last symbol of femininity). Even now in her maid outfit the skirt only reached to knee height. Whilst she had found the dress she wore for the Clover festival most impractical, it had at least been above her ankles- any longer would have ruined the hem. But this was different; long, heavy cloth that swooped down and brushed the floor.

Her makeup was simple- slight blush, peach coloured lips. She wasn't aiming to be the most beautiful in the room. If anything, that was the opposite of her desire; all she wanted was to be one with the crowd. Of course Natsu couldn't go dragging a maid to the ball, so she would wander around dressed as a lady of high birth whilst on alert for any trouble. Once again, Juvia would put on a fake persona and hope that none would pick up on it.

_They were dancing- slowly, cautiously. There was no music, just the tapping of steel on a stone floor._

"_Really, you're going to be at the ball too?" Natsu asked, cocking his head to the side before casually stepping on his dancing partner's foot. Erza barked at him from across the room, informing the prince that if he didn't get his act together then she would be taking Juvia's place, before continuing to beat the time with her sword._

_His bodyguard nodded, not even wincing._

"_But that's not fair! Why don't you ever let me give you a day off?"_

"_Protecting you is a full-time occupation," she replied simply, nimbly evading his foot this time._

_There was silence between them, when Juvia noticed Natsu's face. It seemed thoughtful, quiet, such a contrast to his usually bright and beaming ethos._

"_You know, Juvia thought that a prince such as you would know how to dance."_

"_I was never good at all that stuff. Gray picked it up easier – Ultear would've murdered him if he didn't – but not me."_

_She smiled at him, a soft smile like a mother consoling her child. "Juvia is sure that Gray could never pick up my training as fast as you did."_

_That brought a grin back. Natsu opened his mouth to say something before they were cut off by Erza who ordered them to shut up and dance._

Up until now, Juvia had always been in her element. Big crowds were easy, climbing and killing were as natural to her as breathing. But this place -this great royal court with balls and fancy dresses of such expense that could pay to feed a poor family for a year - was totally alien. She was a lamb among wolves and they were ready to tear her apart at any slip ups.

She should have no need for weapons nor should it be necessary to fight. Her attendance was more mandatory than anything else.

There were still many things Juvia was unsure of- who Jellal was, what Lyon and that mysterious man were up to (she felt proud to know that she could now think of that dark haired man without blushing like a moron- it had taken much training on her part). This was an entirely new field of battle; Juvia would have to be quick and cunning, she would charm for her information rather than kill.

Once again, Juvia peered into the mirror. Erza would be there any minute now, ready to sweep them off into the ballroom filled with aristocracy. She didn't look right. Juvia looked like someone else entirely. Somehow, the blusher had served to soften out her face, making it less angular and giving it a gentler appearance. Thanks to this, her eyes were even more prominent- orbs of blue critically analysing her.

"Juvia, are you ready?"

The girl looked up to see Erza approaching, adorning a luscious gown of red and black lace (Juvia was quick to take note of the daringly low neckline) with her hair pulled into a high ponytail- as always, Erza was shockingly unconventional. "Juvia, we have to be punctual! And what about your hair?"

"Juvia's hair is too short to style."

"Nonsense," Erza stated, reaching into the drawer and coming out with a small hair ornament, silver with silk flowers of cornflower blue. Grabbing a pin, she stuck it in with determination. After several other pins and many failed attempts, she finally managed to make it stay. "There, now you're a true princess."

* * *

><p>"Lisanna, you look lovely!"<p>

The silver haired girl laughed, sea blue eyes sparkling, as her friend enveloped her in a hug. That was the first thing she saw when she entered the room- no time to admire the fashion contest that all female nobility seemed to have tangled into, no time for dashing young men, not even time for the elaborate decoration and beautiful melodies that floated in the air. Lisanna was greeted by her best friend, Lucy.

"Sorry for being so late," she apologised, going to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear before remembering that Mirajane had threatened to butcher her for doing so. "You have no idea how much effort my sister put into everything."

Of course Lucy had an idea- it was all that Lisanna had talked about as of late. The moment the ball was announced and the invitation arrived, Mirajane had begun to plan. Her little sister was to have a gown of white silk adorned with turquoise and pink ribbon. Lisanna thought she looked like somebody had vomited a dressmaker's scraps despite knowing what a price it had been. Of course, there was a reason. Lisanna was seventeen, of an age where most girls of high status would be married, engaged or at the very least have men courting her. Alas, that was not so, and therefore Mirajane struggled to find her a husband.

Lucy -beautiful, kind, intelligent Lucy- had no such problems.

"Lisanna, you don't have to accompany me everywhere. You are allowed to have another life," she said jokingly, beaming.

"I'm your lady-in-waiting: I think 'follow Lucy' is in the job description. Anyway, why wouldn't I want to be with my best friend? You look stunning, by the way."

Lucy rolled her eyes. Her dress was an classic affair of cerise pink, amethyst and sunshine yellow, of classic design yet complimenting her ample figure. "There's no need to flatter me- I'm not looking for a husband."

"Such a shame, milady," came a voice from behind her, smooth and amiable. Lucy's face lit up at the sound of it, and she twirled around grinning.

"Loke!" she exclaimed exuberantly, holding out a gloved hand (as was protocol.)

Said man kissed it and bowed to her. "As always, you are the greatest beauty in the room."

"There's no need for the flattery. Besides, if anyone's deserving of it, it's Lisanna."

The other girl shrugged it off. "Is this a parade of compliments?"

Loke shrugged, then turned to Lisanna. "Mind if I borrow Lucy for a few minutes?"

"So long as your Casanova tendencies have an off switch, sure. But I want her back."

The blonde girl laughed as Loke took her arm and lead her off into a more secluded area. When they were as private as possible, she adopted a more serious persona. "What is it?"

There were still too many people around to speak aloud; he leaned over and whispered in her ear instead. Nevertheless, the man's words caused Lucy to tense up, her hands balling into shocked fists and her face only just managing to stay straight.

"_Natsu's here."_

* * *

><p>"May I have this dance?"<p>

Under any other circumstances, Juvia would whip around and backhand any man who dared lay a hand on her shoulder. But she was in public and this voice was a familiar one, so she saved the violence despite remaining tense and slowly turned her head to meet black eyes.

"Juvia is afraid that she is hardly the most adept of dancers." She deadpanned in reply, searching Lyon for any change of emotion. Days had been spent planning this confrontation, she had sussed out exactly what she would say and how she would say it. But he had caught her off guard, throwing her plans out of the window with simple chivalry. So she improvised.

Unfortunately, Lyon wasn't buying it. "I can lead. Please?"

Well, how on earth was she supposed to say no? He was like her- somebody with no right to be in that room.

Juvia let him take her to the dance floor, manoeuvring around the various couples. She was grateful that the song was a slow, gentle one- Erza had only managed to educate her in the most simple of dances, due to their training being constantly interrupted by Natsu's blunders.

She let Lyon wrap his arms around her slim waist, draping her own over his shoulders. _One-two-three-one-two-three_; simple steps (Juvia guessed that he wasn't much of a dancer either). Her sapphire eyes met his onyx ones, issuing a challenge, daring him to speak first. In his gaze was a message, an odd encrypted one that perplexed her.

In the end, Juvia surrendered. "Did you ask for this dance purely out of courtesy or do you want to know something?"

He chuckled, once again upsetting her balance. "Both. Yes, I do have some questions for you. But… well, I could think of worse people to dance with."

"Juvia would beg to differ," came the steady reply, refusing to be affected by such flattery. She narrowed her eyes. "Ask away."

"Are you Natsu's mistress?"

It was then that Juvia almost lost her cool. Almost. Her facial expression remained unchanged, but she missed a step, leaving the pair off-beat and then clumsily trying to catch up. "Do you honestly believe those rumours?"

"Please answer the question."

Juvia straightened, her eyes full of fire. "No, Juvia is not, nor will she ever be."

Much to her surprise, he smiled charmingly in the face of her irritation. "Good. I wouldn't want to have competition."

They fell back into step.

She arched her eyebrows in amusement. "You flatter Juvia so. Any more questions?"

"Just one more. Why do you talk in third person?"

_Because I can pretend that Juvia is a different person that I can blame everything on. Because Mother hated Juvia, not me. Because Juvia was the one who killed who she was told, not me._

"Because. Now it's Juvia's turn to ask the questions- don't worry, only one."

He flashed a crooked grin. "Bring it on."

"Who was the 'friend' that came to help you at the Clover festival? Juvia ran into him: dark blue eyes, black hair, well-built."

"Why do you want to know?"

"Why wouldn't I?" she retorted.

Lyon's face took on a more neutral expression as he sighed, like such questions were ones that he had tired of answering long ago. He seemed crestfallen, expecting something else than her purely factual and strategic inquiry. Nevertheless, he returned his gaze to her expecting one, although his dark eyes seemed less eager than before.

"That was my brother."

The dance was once again lost, by both of them. They made no attempt to regain the rhythm, constantly mucking up the steps.

"Your brother?" Juvia's pitch rose a few tones. "You mean?"

"Well, Gray's technically my half-brother but I didn't think you wanted specifics."

She halted in disbelief. Their blissful dance was beyond saving, especially now. They held their gaze for a lengthy period of time before that too was broken as she left the dance floor and immersed herself in the crowd once again. Lyon once again watched her go.

"…You look beautiful."

* * *

><p>Wendy stared up at the ceiling, having not so much as glanced at her book for the past ten minutes. Even Porlyusica was gone, and for the first time in a long while she was truly alone. Her embroidery lay unloved at the foot of her bed, right next to Charle, who was looking upon the young princess with disapproval. Wendy groaned, dumping the book. She wasn't used to being by herself.<p>

And there was _nothing to do_.

She heard something, and looked up to see that Charle had knocked her basket over. It was a simple wicker basket, one that she used to collect herbs whenever Porlyusica felt like teaching her apothecary.

Come to think of it…

Didn't Juvia mention that Natsu needed Troia? That was a simple medicine to make- Wendy could probably do it on her own. Everybody else minus a few guards were at the ball…

Coming to a decision, Wendy glanced out of the window- it was raining, but only a light drizzle, so light that it could just be mistaken for damp air. Nevertheless, she put on her dark blue travelling cloak and pulled up the hood before reaching for her basket. On second thoughts, she snatched an oil lamp from a shelf and, after a few attempts, managed to light it with her bedside candle.

When she reached the balcony, she turned to see if Charle would follow, like she always did. The princess was surprised to see her pet cat hiss and arch her back despite all her attempts at coaxing the feline out.

"Do you not like the wet, Charle? Wait here then."

It took a good few minutes of stroking for her pet's caterwauling to transform into purring. Wendy knew it wouldn't last long, so she planted a light kiss on Charle's furry white forehead before going out onto the balcony and carefully climbing down.

She hugged the wall, making her way across the garden. The route was a familiar one, but everything seemed so different in the dark. The light from her lantern was a great help, and Wendy couldn't imagine being without it. Her cloak was also comforting, especially when the drizzle melted into actual rain.

Upon reaching the wall, Wendy scaled over it- there was no way she could get in via the door- and landed on the other side with a soft thump, into the herb garden. As she had predicted, it was empty.

"Umm… what do I need?" She murmured to herself before reciting all the ingredients. Slowly, she made her way around, identifying the various herbs and stashing them in her basket. All the while, she talked, then hummed, anything to fill the painstaking silence.

It was stupid, paranoid and childish, but Wendy got the feeling that she was being watched with a gaze intense enough to burn holes in her back.

She only had one more herb to collect (what did it look like again?). Finding herself devoid of topics to ramble about, Wendy instead turned to singing. Just nursery rhymes and little ditties, nothing much, easygoing tunes that put her at ease and almost drowned out the rustling of the grass that she kept mistaking as footsteps.

Except then something happened that sent chills down her spine and was definitely _not _grass nor a trick of the wind.

Somebody grabbed her cloak.

Wendy let out a surprised squeak, tugging free and flinging her basket at the figure. She also dropped her lantern, causing it to splutter and die and plunge her back in darkness.

Turning tail, Wendy desperately scrambled back up the wall (was it that slippery and wet before?), landing as an ungraceful lump at the other side. Untangling herself from her skirts, she fled across the grass, not bothering to try and be stealthy as pure terror dominated over calm and rationality. Suddenly, her dress was a lot longer, constantly tripping her up with its sodden hem. She didn't dare look back to see who was in pursuit, nor would she run any risks by stopping to regain breath, even though her sides were splitting and her lungs were feeling severely deprived.

Her balcony seemed considerably higher up than it was before, and Wendy almost fell several times before flopping onto it. Scrambling to her feet, she slammed the French doors shut and threw herself onto her bed, covering her ears to Charle's shrill squeals of protest.

Slowly, her frantic heartbeat eased out, managing a more regular rhythm. Charle was quiet, the rain sounding muffled like a distant memory. Wendy's cloak was dripping wet, soaking the covers of her bed, but she was in complete bliss, safe and secure.

* * *

><p>"Looks like you've already attracted attention." Erza greeted Juvia, an eyebrow raised and glass of champagne in her hand. They were on the higher level, looking down at the main dancefloor. The former assassin rolled her eyes before accepting a glass from a passing servant.<p>

"He asked Juvia to dance, not the other way around."

"Who is he?"

Juvia mulled over whether or not to tell Erza. They were friends, and it wasn't like Juvia distrusted Erza- she just wanted to keep a few things quiet.

"Juvia doesn't know."

"You two looked pretty close if you ask me. And, by the way, that's Lyon Bastia."

Juvia shot the other woman an icy glare to signal that she didn't wish to continue the conversation. This was answered with a nod of understanding. _I won't ask about you and Lyon, you won't ask about Jellal and I._

They stood in an uncomfortable silence, each sipping their drinks awkwardly. Erza seemed lost in thought – her gaze distant, preoccupied - whilst Juvia was preoccupied scanning the room, sapphire eyes roaming over each individual, analysing the architecture- this place was spectacular, lavish, and she wanted to soak in every detail of it for both sentimental and practical purposes.

"Erza, are you well acquainted with the court?"

The red-headed woman nodded. "I would say so. Why do you ask?"

"There are just some people I would like to know more of."

She smiled, the tension between them melting. "Who?"

Juvia wrung her hands together. She had to keep it innocent to try and avoid Erza becoming suspicious. Because Juvia herself didn't understand what she was playing at and throwing somebody else into the mix would only complicate things further.

First she pointed towards an attractive young man surrounded by a good few ladies. "Who might he be?"

"That's Loke, foreign ambassador for the Celestial kingdom. Spends more time flirting than doing his job but who am I to judge? He's actually quite a nice guy so long as he keeps himself in check."

Juvia nodded, archiving that information despite it having little relevance. She frantically searched for her next target before her gaze landed on a woman with dark hair and a rather exotic gown. "Her?"

"You mean the one in the eastern dress? That would be none other than Ultear Milkovich- technically Fullbuster, but she prefers going by her mother's maiden name. Anyway, remember what I told you? She's Ur's daughter from a previous marriage and the king's step-daughter. Some think that she should return to her country but the king is rather fond of her. She's clever, much more savvy than either of his sons. "

_So that means that she is the half-sister of Gray and Lyon… this family tree really is special. _She continued to stare at Ultear, who was chatting freely to some crabby looking old woman. Quickly, Juvia picked up on another- _three should be enough to knock her off the scent, right?_

Two girls were making their way towards Gray (she could practically recognise him a mile away, which was probably a bad sign). Juvia indicated to the platinum blonde one, a slim, petite girl in a pretty dress with a bright smile.

"Good choice," Erza finished off her champagne and absentmindedly began twiddling with the glass. "To be honest, I could talk about her for hours, but I'll try to keep it concise. That's Lisanna, youngest of the Strauss family. Their family have been warriors for centuries- nobody is sure how the tradition started, but it stuck. Mirajane, the eldest, has won many a tournament- though she's settled down since her marriage. Elfman is a military commander and knight like myself, an honest, courageous and straightforward man. But Lisanna's different, the odd one out. Nevertheless, she's a nice enough girl."

Juvia didn't leave much of a pause before pointing at the raven haired man- it was him, wasn't it? "And him?"

Erza flashed a glance at her. "That's your rival. Prince Gray Fullbuster. Need I say more?"

She was glad to have gone through all that personal training, otherwise she'd be blushing furiously. However, Juvia was distracted by something else entirely. The girl that Lisanna was with- a blonde- leaned over to Gray, whispering something in his ear. The prince nodded, squeezing the blonde girl's hand before nodding at her. She exhaled in relief before leaving alongside Lisanna.

Juvia's stomach clenched in a tight knot, ugly and solid. She fought to keep her breath under control, though she was unsure of why such a reaction had been triggered. _Juvia is calm, Juvia is collected, Juvia is stoic._

"What about her? The blonde in the pink dress?" She asked, voice unwavering

"Ah," Erza said, leaning in. "There's an interesting one. That would be none other than Lucy- princess of the Celestial Kingdom and Prince Gray Fullbuster's fiancée."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yeah, what is it with this new 'story cover' thing? I'm an artistic failure, what am I supposed to do?<strong>

**Anyway, I've been planning this chapter for ages, but it didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped. My sister (who is more artistically talented than I) is working towards drawing dress designs for all of the girls, which I'll get to you once they're done.**

**~ Meg**


	11. Young Love, Dumb Love

**AN: So many reviews and so much positive feedback, it's lovely! Anyway, so my story cover wouldn't be smiley Lucy which would **_**not **_**be suitable for this story, I derped around on photoshop at 3 am. Yay?**

**_Disclaimer: As much as it tears my soul into a million shreds to admit, no, I do not own Fairy __Tail._**

* * *

><p><em><strong>~ Young Love, Dumb Love ~<strong>_

**"**It's fine, I'm fine…" Lucy mumbled to herself. Lisanna had disappeared, practically abducted by Mirajane to meet potential suitors. In a way, the princess envied her friend- she had so much choice, she was still young and could flirt and dress prettily and enjoy herself.

Speaking of which, she was battling with herself whilst attempting to scout out a familiar shock of salmon pink hair. Her instincts told her to stay as far away from Natsu as humanly possible and avoid any socialisation whatsoever; yet the braver and (probably) more stupid side argued that they would meet sooner or later, and that it would be better to get the confrontation over and done with. Surely things couldn't be bitter after three years?

Closing her eyes, she remembered Gray's words- _"You know Natsu could never hate you. Don't be so scared."_

But the case still stood that he hadn't replied to any of her letters (the few she'd been able to complete) nor made any attempt to meet her. So that probably indicated that he was either evading her out of cowardice (unlikely for Natsu) or he honestly didn't care for her anymore. The thought of the second was painful, and were it true Lucy was pretty sure it would feel like a sword through her heart. Maybe if he hated her, if he shouted and screamed at her, it wouldn't be as bad as simply not acknowledging her existence.

How ironic that, nearly as soon as that thought was finished, she looked up to see the back of Natsu's head, almost directly in front of her. The shock of this caused her to start, a slight, high-pitched squeak escaping her lips. But Natsu's hearing was as good as Lucy remembered it- he picked up on her immediately, turning as though he was expecting somebody different, _a friend or lover or…_

He looked almost no different, much to her great surprise and almost delight. Taller and more well-built, yet his face and hair remained remarkably unchanged. Yes, Natsu was still recognisable and that served to ease Lucy's tension.

_Was she still the same, or had she changed?_

They didn't say anything. Neither of the teenage royals could utter a word, unable to vocalise a single syllable. To do so would be impossible.

* * *

><p><em>Natsu had always known about the Celestial kingdom- a neighbouring country of Fiore, a small but prosperous place that kept peace with others. And he knew the basics of its royal family- the good king, the beautiful queen and the happy princess. It sounded like utopia, somewhere altogether nicer and more welcoming than Fiore.<em>

_But, as his tutor had drilled into his and Gray's heads many a time, the country had a 'remarkable history'. Natsu had thought it all rather boring, but that didn't stop him having to waste hours of his life learning of the 'Wars of the Dukedoms". It wasn't really as grand as it sounded- just some boring dribble._

_Generations ago, a thirty-two year war between the Heartfilia dukedom and the Oracion Seis over the throne had resulted in the birth of the Heartfilia dynasty, who became the kingdom's royalty. But that was years and years ago and the knowledge seemed about as much use to Natsu as a slug with a hammer. In his time the Celestial kingdom was about as close to paradise as he had heard of._

_When he and Gray were ten years old, they were summoned by Makarov- the king's elderly advisor. Natsu had always liked the tiny old man, thought of him as grandfather, even if he was weird._

"_As you two may have heard, a great tragedy has occurred."_

_About a million wild ideas rampaged through Natsu's mind at that point._

_Gray folded his arms. "I don't know about any tragedy. Pinky's birth counts…"_

"_Say that again, squinty eyes!"_

"_Dumbass!"_

"_Stripper!"_

"_Enough!"_

_The two boys went silent, looking ready to tear each other's throats out before turning to look at the old man. "What is it?"_

_Makarov coughed. "Queen Layla has died."_

"…_Who's Layla?"_

"_I didn't know that Dad had remarried."_

_The king's advisor shook his head in despair. "Layla is the late queen of the Celestial kingdom, dunderheads!"_

_There was a slight pause as the two boys registered this fact, broken by an "ohhhh" of understanding._

_Gray cocked his head to the side. "How does that affect us?"_

"_Because, stupid!" Natsu retorted if only to oppose Gray._

_They were once again silenced, this time by a death glare. When they had meekly settled down, Makarov turned to the wall. There was a new portrait up- one of a little girl, maybe eight or nine years old, with smooth blonde hair (a section of which was tied into a side ponytail; an odd, childish hairstyle). She was staring out with deep brown eyes and a soft smile._

"_The king has decided to send his only daughter, the princess Lucy, to live at the Fiore court. She is to be educated alongside you two- a great honour, may you know- and it is highly likely that one day she shall become bride to one of you. It is unsure how long she will stay, but you are to treat her with the utmost courtesy; both she and her father are still in grief."_

_Natsu whispered over to Gray, sounding sceptic- "Why do we have to be friends with some dumb girl?"_

_For once, his half-brother agreed._

* * *

><p><em>Lucy arrived in some grand procession that was just one of many Natsu had witnessed in his lifetime. Almost instantly, the court adored her- the pretty little precious princess with her smouldering doe brown eyes, golden shining hair and perfect everything was impossible for them to despise, and such a great contrast to the two boisterous princes and the timid five-year-old Wendy.<em>

_Personally, Natsu thought her to be of no great virtue. She didn't conduct herself like a princess should; that is, she wasn't shining, smiling, charismatic. Lucy was quiet, solemn, shying away from the light. She dressed in black, spoke as little as possible and all her smiles were empty. He and Gray found that, much to their almost-but-not-quite disappointment, she didn't cause them much trouble. In lessons she spoke when spoken to and never seemed to do so much as glance at them. The moment classes were done she swooped off somewhere and they didn't see her._

_It wasn't until Gray tripped his brother up one day that she seemed to ever become involved in their business. She appeared in front of Natsu, a book tucked under one arm with a hand extended to help him up._

_Needless to say, Natsu pushed her out the way and went after Gray._

_When he spared a second to look at her she seemed somewhat more melancholy (if that was even possible). And when she noticed he was looking she managed a half-smile, yet another fake and empty façade._

* * *

><p>"<em>So this is what you do?"<em>

_Lucy looked up, tilting her head to the side when she saw Natsu. She had a book on her lap- poetry by the looks of it- and was sitting in the shade of a flower bush._

_She didn't say anything, so he sat beside her, turning to sniff the small white flowers._

"_Those are camellias. They're scentless," the blonde girl informed him, and he turned around to look at her quizzically._

"_Nope, I can definitely smell something."_

_Her face remained unchanged. "They're scentless. You must have smelled something else."_

_Natsu scrunched up his nose and sniffed the air long and hard before leaning in close to her, beaming widely. "Just because they're scentless doesn't mean they don't smell of anything."_

_She smiled for a few seconds before shuffling backwards, putting a comfortable distance between them. "That's the exact definition of the word 'scentless', stupid."_

"_Weirdo."_

"_How am I the weird one when you can supposedly smell scentless flowers?" she protested, arms folded._

_The prince stuck out his tongue at her. "Because you think those flowers are scentless!"_

"_They're camellias, of course they are!"_

_This fervent debating carried on until an exasperated Lucy threw her hands up in the air. "Fine, we're both weird. Happy?"_

_There was a silence as she lowered her arms, cheeks tinged pink, and smoothed down her skirt thoughtfully. When she looked up Natsu was already standing, hand held out to help her up._

_She took it, and the next day she came into class wearing yellow._

* * *

><p><em>Even when she was no longer in mourning, Lucy wasn't quite what anybody had expected. Whilst she was girly, weird and had a tendency to overreact at the smallest things, the young princess was kind, clever and determined. The boys accepted her and they became a trio, joined at the hip. She played with them even though their games were too boisterous and she always ended up tripping over her own skirts and being horrendously embarrassed. Wendy would join in from time to time when Porlyusica permitted, but these were rare occasions.<em>

_But on rainy days- well, those were her domain. At first she would sew or read whilst Natsu and Gray attempted to wreak havoc. But one day she just sighed, put down her embroidery and got up to teach them how to enjoy themselves._

_She taught them card games, and always won even when they tried to cheat. They drew, even though her drawings were of beautiful, exotic flowers and landscapes and Natsu and Gray doodled gory deaths for each other. Lucy showed them games, music, dance- she was a young lady after all. Sometimes it was hard to forget that, when the two princes were constantly dragging her off to play their rough, childish games, that she was a princess and a good one at that._

_Once, she showed them origami. Gray learnt quick enough, even though his cranes looked like dinosaurs in comparison to Lucy's, which were spindly and fragile. But at least he came out with something- Natsu kept tearing the paper, folding it all wrong._

_In the end, Lucy got up and took his hands, slowly guiding him through the steps. And he probably would have learned them had he not been preoccupied realising how much he liked her hands. They were light, fluttery. Like butterflies._

"_Okay, your turn now."_

**_Fuck._**

* * *

><p><em>By the age of fourteen, Natsu had accumulated five big secrets<em>

_1. He was scared of his twentieth birthday._

_He couldn't explain why he lacked confidence, but he feared that decisive day. As much of an arrogant jerkface stripper Gray was, Natsu couldn't imagine growing up without him. But that day, when the next king was decided, Natsu suspected that whatever bond they had would be shattered._

_2. He couldn't remember his own mother's face._

_Grandine lost her head when Natsu was five years old. But somehow, he could look at her grave and feel for all the world like he had lost nothing; because he hardly knew her. He saw portraits, but those were all idealistic, showing a picture of conventional beauty. It said nothing about her identity, her personality, nothing but the fact that she liked to wear low-cut dresses. Natsu knew more about Layla and Ur than he did about Grandine._

_3. He was jealous of Gray._

_Natsu would never admit it, but he secretly envied his half-brother. Gray had Ultear and Lyon by his side- as much as the raven haired boy complained about them, they were undyingly loyal. They were older and could guide the way; Natsu had to care for Wendy, shy little Wendy. He didn't have that support system and wished he did._

_4. He sometimes wished he was normal._

_Sometimes, Natsu felt like he was stuck in a plush cage. He wanted to learn, and not just learn through books like Lucy seemed content with doing. If he was going to be king then he wanted to know his subjects. He wanted to see the world from every angle, to experience it, to understand. And being heir to the throne was a great responsibility. He would go and join a troupe of travelling players or become a sailor- anything different to this sheltered existence._

_5. He had kissed Lucy behind the camellia bush._

_And then he claimed that it was a birthday present. She had blushed wildly and they agreed to keep it a secret. From time to time, Natsu wondered if she forgot that it happened. But something changed. Lucy was fourteen, already shaping up to be developing ample curves. Up until then she had always been pretty but now, with this new maturity she was growing to be absolutely stunning._

_So, of course, men would be after her. As her best-friend-who-was-confused-about-his-feelings, Natsu felt it his duty to protect her: to keep her close by him._

_He had never expected this plan to fall apart._

* * *

><p><em>One day, Lucy and Gray were absent from their lessons. So Natsu was allowed free roam. At first he was excited at this before realizing that he couldn't enjoy himself without Lucy or even Gray present. So he ran looking for them, only walking into Ultear instead.<em>

_Ultear was four years older than him, and he barely knew her apart from the fact that she was Gray's sister, his step sister and that she was always too busy for him. But today he had a goal, and he needed her._

"_Do you know where Gray is?"_

_She had her fan out, absentmindedly waving it despite the fact that it wasn't hot at all. Ultear fixed him with her deep, dark, cinder coloured eyes (Natsu couldn't decide whether they were brown or black. Black seemed to suit her better- brown was for Lucy, soft and sweet, like cocoa; Ultear was perfect for black, a dark being with no warmth, an indecipherable enigma) as though he was nothing more than a servant._

"_Gray's too busy today."_

"_What can squinty eyes be doing?"_

_Her glare was positively icy. "Gray is dealing with political business currently. Run along and do whatever."_

_He waited until she was a safe distance away with her back turned before sticking his tongue out._

* * *

><p>"<em>Natsu, why are you spending time with me?"<em>

"_Because you're my little sister."_

_Wendy didn't look up from the daisy chain she was making. "But you're usually with Lucy and Gray."_

_Natsu puffed out. "Yeah, well they're apparently too busy for me."_

"_Everyone's too busy for us."_

_He looked up, shaking his head. "Don't say that, Wendy."_

"_But it's true, isn't it?" she said, threading a stem and searching for another flower. "I'm not going to be queen unless you and Gray are struck by lightning- not that I want that to happen or anything!"_

_Her brother informed her that he hadn't presumed as such._

"_Well, I'm never going to be queen. I shall marry and then have kids and will die and nobody will remember me."_

"_When I'm king, I'll make sure you only marry who you want to," he declared with great certainty. Wendy could have laughed._

"_And it shall be illegal to carry a fan indoors!" she giggled._

_At this, Natsu caught on the joke. "And strippers will be carefully monitored!"_

_They both burst out into hysterics, holding their sides at jokes that weren't even that funny. But when their diaphragms couldn't take it anymore the laughter ebbed away._

_Wendy spoke cautiously, unsure. "Natsu… what was Mama like?"_

**"**_**No idea."**__He thought, but he couldn't tell her that. So instead he spun a wild tale of a beautiful young woman who died a tragic death and was a loving mother who adored her two children._

* * *

><p><em>Screw what Ultear said, he was going to find Lucy and Gray whether she liked it or not. Wendy's governess had reclaimed her and now Natsu was bored.<em>

_He made his way to Gray's room and was ready to kick the door down when he heard a voice._

_This voice was significant because it was not Gray's. It was feminine and it was Lucy's and it sounded low and conspiratorial._

_Checking the corridor and finding it empty, Natsu crouched down as soundlessly as he could and looked through the keyhole, almost crying out when he saw something he had never dreamed of._

_Gray (who was _shirtless_) was sitting on the bed with Lucy. His arms were wrapped around her body, pulling her close, rubbing consoling circles into her back. The worst thing was that they looked absolutely perfect together._

"_Why do I have to tell him?" she mumbled, resting her head on his shoulder. "Can't you?"_

"_Lucy, you know you've got to tell him."_

"_Can't we wait until the public announcement?"_

"_If you do, he'll only resent you more. Go, explain it straight out. Natsu's completely thick, but if you explain he'll understand."_

_Lucy swallowed- had Natsu been closer, he would have seen that her cheeks were damp from recently shed tears- and pushed Gray away, fiddling with her skirt. "I'm not so sure… I mean, it's not an easy thing to say, is it? Can you go with me?"_

_He flashed a humourless smile. "You know he'd attempt to murder me on the spot."_

"_But… if we're… y'know… If we're supposed to get married, we should- hey, did you hear that?"_

_By the time they had the door open, Natsu was gone._

* * *

><p>"<em>Natsu! You didn't tell me you were leaving." Lucy chided as she entered the room. Maidservants bustled to and fro, gathering the prince's possessions whilst Natsu himself was out on the balcony. Lucy joined him out there and then conducted a mission to try and gain eye contact- to no avail. "Why are you leaving the court anyway?"<em>

_Oh, how much Natsu longed to look into those sweet doe brown eyes and forgive her. Lucy was a forgivable person, and her casual speech, like they were still friends, only served to heighten his doubts. He could picture her now, leaning against the balcony, looking over the garden, tapping her fingers on the stone absentmindedly as she looked expectantly at him. Had she always hidden secrets from him, or was it only recently that her face became a mask to hide her lies behind?_

"_I felt like it was time to become more independent."_

"_You could have at least told me," she said, sidling up closer to him. "Or were you planning on taking off in the dead of the night?"_

_He shuffled away. "I didn't think you would be too concerned."_

"_Natsu, you're my best friend, of course I care!"_

_**Best friend.**_

_The pink haired prince gripped the balcony tighter, glaring at the sky. Why was it so sunny? Why weren't there thunderclouds and torrential rainstorms to match his mood? "Don't worry, I'll come back. I'll definitely come back for the wedding."_

_She paused, confirming everything by simply not speaking._

"_You-you mean-"_

"_Yes. I mean you marrying my brother."_

"_No no no," Lucy shook her head, standing rigid. "Natsu, you've got it all wrong. We're only engaged, the wedding won't be for years- Gray says we'll wait until I'm eighteen, so that's four years and I can't spend four years waiting for you to come home!" She was talking fast, frantic, panicked._

_He whipped around to face her. She was using and abusing emphatic gestures, wildly moving her hands in her frenzy, but instantly froze when he finally lost his temper._

"_Were you even going to tell me, or was I supposed to find out at the 'public announcement'? Goddamnit Lucy, you stupid bitch, what game are you playing at? If you want to go marry Squinty Eyes then fine by me but don't go begging me to stay just so I can be a source of entertainment for you. Last time I checked that's not what friends are for!"_

_The harshness of his own words hit him a second later, the rifle's recoil. Lucy had taken on a startled expression, paralysed like she had just stared into the eyes of a gorgon._

_**What have I done?**_

_Natsu took a step forward, cursing in his head, trying to find a solution to this hopeless situation. "Come on Luce you know-"_

_She slapped him across the face with surprising strength, her eyes glistening._

"_Don't call me Luce!" she screeched before turning tail and running, pushing maidservants aside as she wiped tears from her eyes._

* * *

><p>And now she was staring into his eyes again. Lucy had changed drastically- the curves that were only just beginning to form when she was fourteen were now quite simply astounding. Her figure was voluptuous from her ample bosom to slim waist and hips. She still had those light hands (butterfly hands), but they were gloved currently. Her face was roughly the same, and her hair was only a little longer.<p>

But she had changed, because she froze on sight of him.

When the doors flew open, neither of them so much as glanced at it, locked in a state of isolated speechlessness.

However, when screaming and screeching were heard they snapped out of it, turning to try and find the voice of the commotion.

The voice was familiar but almost unrecognisable- a voice they had never heard so hysterical.

"Is that Porlyusica?" Lucy stuttered. Natsu nodded.

And then powerful words rang out across the ballroom, silencing all the guests even in the furthest reaches.

"She's gone! THE PRINCESS HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yes, this chapter isn't as long as my last one. Currently, Natsu is winning for the 'longest backstory' award. Lucy's perspective of this story will come at a later date.<strong>

**I will hopefully get the next chapter out soon, and it will hopefully not be me filling word counts with backstory.**

**I bestow invisible muffins to my beta reader, Secret Agent Codename Bob.**

**See you next time!**

**~Meg**


	12. Examination, Observation, Revelation

**AN: I seriously need to get better at making these updates regular. But my personal life has been getting pretty hectic lately then I got whisked away to Spain with no wifi, so yeah. But if you're going to review and I haven't updated in a while, please don't beg me to update. I write when I can and forcing myself to try and write quickly usually leads to the resulting chapter being below-par. Thank you.**

**_Disclaimer: Da da da don't own Fairy Tail_**

* * *

><p><strong><span>~ Examination, Observation, Revelation ~<span>**

"The princess…" Juvia mumbled, scouting out a blonde head in the crowd. If Lucy was still there, that meant-

She didn't finish that train of thought, because Erza grabbed her forearm and stormed down to the chaos that was the main dancefloor. At first the room was murmuring, searching; then panic broke out, couples rushing to each other's' protective embrace, some ladies swooning, the servants rushing to and fro in an attempt to maintain order. Some were attempting to attend upon Porlyusica, but she was having none of it, pushing them all aside and fervently demanding to see the king.

Erza raised her voice to be heard over the raucous. "Wendy must have been captured. After all, she wasn't at the ball, and the guards were more focused around the ballroom," she said in a matter-of-fact voice, although her brow was furrowed in a mixture of confusion and concern.

"But why would somebody want to kidnap a twelve-year-old?"

"I don't know," the lady knight confessed, "but if they're still here, remember that you're Natsu's bodyguard."

Juvia nodded. Maybe it was the ridiculously tight dress or perhaps the stench of warring perfumes clogging up the air, but she had needed that reality check from Erza. Lyon and Gray were irrelevant to this situation.

Except they weren't because, for some reason they were involved in Natsu's business. Gray was Natsu's rival for the throne and therefore the one sending the assassins… right? So what were the brothers doing against Trinity Raven in Clover? Juvia still couldn't quite get her head around it all. Life had been so much easier back when she was an assassin, because back then it was all black and white; you're told to kill someone, you kill them.

It could have been that the two were doing it as a means of fooling her and Natsu into trusting them- but that would be too complex and too risky. She had witnessed the battle against Fukuro in which Lyon was truly and honestly fighting, and fell within a nanosecond of failure. There was no way that could have been a bluff.

And what was all this about 'competition'? Juvia had an inkling of what it meant, a thought that seemed poisonous and one she didn't want to dwell upon because, not only was a love triangle (no it _wasn't _a love triangle because she _didn't _love Gray because she had only met him once and exchanged no words for pity's sake) the last thing she needed right now, but a love triangle with her enemies was a catastrophe waiting to happen.

_No, Juvia. Focus._

She invested all her attention into safely manoeuvring through the crowd- they were more densely packed now, women's wide skirts clogging up needed space. With every twist and turn made Juvia brushed against lace and silk, her movements set to an accompaniment of rustling fabric releasing different aromas. The guards were trying to subdue the crowd, to assure them that they were safe and that nothing could harm them in here.

Juvia rubbed shoulders with another who continued in the same direction. One glance confirmed this be Lisanna, her expression a mixture of worry, caution and confusion – _Strauss family, warriors for centuries, different, odd one out, nice enough _– pushing her way towards Lucy (from what Juvia had observed earlier they seemed to be friends, or at least acquaintances).

The noblewoman noticed her and looked back with turquoise sea-blue eyes, flashing a quick smile that seemed to portray an I-don't-really-know-what's-going-on vibe. Ahead of them, Erza half fought, half strode through, her assertive voice enough to clear the way whilst Lisanna and Juvia were caught in the crush.

In a brief period where moving from a certain spot was beyond the impossible, Lisanna extended a hand, this time her smile more amiable. "Lisanna Strauss. You?"

_Don't tell._ Her instincts warned, but she remembered what Erza said about this girl. She didn't take the hand, but nodded and turned up the corner of her mouth in a crooked half-smile. "Juvia Lockser."

At that moment, they finally managed to get through and, after half a minute or so more of crowd-wading, reached their destination.

"Lucy!" Lisanna exclaimed. Said princess turned around, breathing a sigh of relief. Up close to this girl, Juvia felt her heart scream in jealousy. Silky, shining hair, deep eyes, a remarkable bosom.

"Lisanna, have you seen Loke?" she asked, searching the crowd.

"I'm sure he'll be fine. Half the room think you've been kidnapped!"

Lucy giggled weakly before deflating, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Oh goodness, why Wendy?"

"I don't know, but like hell are we just gonna sit here." Natsu spoke up, arms folded defiantly. Juvia wormed her way to stand next to him.

Erza placed a hand on the prince's shoulder, her cocoa eyes steely. "Don't get ahead of yourself- timing is everything."

The blonde princess looked at the three before nodding thoughtfully. "I'll go talk to Gray… he might know what's going on…"

"I'm going with you!" Lisanna protested, taking a step forward. However, Lucy held out a hand to stop her and shook her head.

"You go find Loke, make sure he's alright." And then, upon seeing the other girl's concerned face, she smiled reassuringly and added: "Don't worry, I'll be fine." Nodding at the other three in a form of wordless goodbye, she waved and turned, immersing herself back into the crowd- Lisanna did the same.

"Erza, go tail Lisanna. Juvia, keep an eye on Lucy."

The blue-haired girl turned to him, brow furrowed. "And what about you?"

Natsu grinned in confidence. "Of course I'll be fine! Honestly, you guys are so paranoid."

"Juvia is your bodyguard. Shouldn't-"

"Please."

She paused, face blank and eyes questioning, before leaving whilst Erza nailed him with an impertinent and fixed stare.

"Juvia may be your servant, but I'm not," she stated, arms folded defiantly. "Lisanna is a nice girl and I like her siblings. To follow her would be morally wrong."

The pink-haired prince sighed in defeat. "I guess so…"

"In Juvia's absence, I'll keep you safe."

"You still haven't answered my question."

Erza's eyes flared with momentary panic before settling back into a steel gaze. "What question?"

"Who's Jellal?"

Irritation was clear in her voice. "You don't give up, do you?"

He persisted, proving her remark accurate. "Who is Jellal Fernandes?"

Her brown eyes bore into him with a mixture of anger and hurt before she pivoted on her heel and took off in roughly the same direction as Lisanna.

* * *

><p>Lucy wasn't the easiest to track but Juvia was completely in her element and therefore able to follow her through the crowd. Besides, it's not like Juvia would have so much as dreamed of taking her eyes off the princess for a second. She was busy analysing her, soaking in every detail.<p>

She was a beauty, that was for sure. Lucy was one of those rare specimens of traditional, borderline unattainable grace- fair golden locks, intelligent brown eyes, an ample yet slim figure. But at the same time this attractiveness was repulsive (or at least it was to Juvia). Lucy moved with elegance; had the former assassin not seen her panicking mere minutes beforehand, she could have almost mistaken the blonde for calm. Almost.

It was from this that Juvia was able to deduct a key thing about Lucy Heartfilia- she was somebody adept at keeping up appearances, be it out of necessity or otherwise.

"Gray!" said princess hissed, tugging on the dark haired young man's arm. Juvia quickly halted and scurried to cover – behind a rather gaudy flower arrangement – and inconspicuously peeked around at the two.

He turned and relief washed over his features. "Lucy, thank god! I was-"

"Why does everyone think I'm helpless? Besides, it's not like-"

"-That's beside the point- I'm just glad you're safe."

Lucy relaxed, going to tuck a loose strand of hair back in place before deciding against it and resorting to just wringing her hands instead. "Look, Natsu's really worried about Wendy and-"

Once again, he cut her off. Juvia had yet to hear them exchange a single complete sentence. "You talked to Natsu?" Gray didn't seem angry, just sort of bemused and surprised, as though he hadn't been expecting that of her.

"Yes," Lucy responded immediately before sighing. "Yes I did. Though I wouldn't count it as a conversation… Look, he's really worried about Wendy so I think it would be a good idea if we were to send out a search party."

"And why are you asking me?"

"Well, since nobody has any idea where on earth Igneel is - probably in his study – Ultear will be taking charge. You're the only one who doesn't have to kiss the ground at Ultear's feet," she said in a low but sarcastic voice, prompting a slight chuckle from her fiancée.

"Slight problem- the guards are too busy trying to keep the guests under control. The amount of people fainting is quite frankly crazy."

Lucy folded her arms and bit her lip, digesting this information whilst Juvia watched. They didn't act like lovers- then again, looks were deceiving. And that didn't change the fact that, at this closer distance, Juvia could observe the ring on Lucy's gloved finger; a fairly small band of silver with an amethyst set into it, with Gray probably sporting a match.

The princess nodded and looked back up. "Then Lisanna and I can check it out."

"No."

It seemed that the blonde had been prepared for such a flat, dismissive answer and she stood her ground defiantly. "Think of this practically! The guards are busy- anyway, they would be too conspicuous. We're just going to search for clues, nothing much."

"You're forgetting one thing- the kidnapper might still be here," Gray counteracted.

"It's not like I'll be alone- I'll have Lisanna with me!"

Gray exhaled in exasperation. "Lucy, if you get hurt… just no. Okay? Lyon and I can check it out for you."

"But Wendy is Natsu's sister, he has the right to know!"

"Then he can go too if he's desperate. He'll probably bring Erza and Juvia with him."

Juvia jumped at the mention of her name before settling down _(stupid Juvia, remember your training, don't let up stupid Juvia) _and returning to her hiding place. She would have to change cover because sooner or later people would start to notice, but now that prospect seemed increasingly risky.

Gray knew who she was. Juvia wasn't sure just how much he knew, but he knew enough.

Fortunately, Lucy was too preoccupied with her debate to call him out on this unfamiliar name. "You guys are royalty too, and Erza's a woman. So what excuse do you have to not let me go?"

"I think Erza is an exception to an awful lot of things. And-" He leaned closer, charcoal eyes boring into her cocoa coloured orbs, and lowered his voice so that Juvia was only able to catch his last few words: "-don't do anything stupid."

The princess stared back, her gaze unwavering and somewhat challenging. Then she shrugged in defeat.

"Whatever. Go talk to Ultear about it then."

The two parted ways and Lucy was about to stalk back to wherever when she stopped suddenly. Slowly, uncertainly, she turned her head, doubting the strange sense of being watched. But by that time all she could have possible caught sight of were a few blue curls and the back of a dress (both were unfamiliar sights to the young princess); Juvia left no evidence of eavesdropping.

* * *

><p>Three figures trudged through the rain, one lamp lighting their way through the darkness. One of them stomped ahead in determination. A short distance behind him a woman struggled to keep up, dragging her waterlogged skirt along the wet grass. A third, more confident female brought up the rear.<p>

"Dammit, they couldn't have gotten too far!" Natsu complained. He thought he knew the gardens like the back of his hand- to be fair, they hadn't changed much in three years- but with little light he found himself constantly having to reassess where he was going. Behind him, Juvia gave in, hitching up her skirt and quickening her pace to try and catch up.

"That depends, master. We don't know how much time passed between Wendy disappearing and Porlyusica going to check up on her. And these people move fast…" she trailed off, not having the heart to break it to the prince that it could have been too late for them to rescue his precious little sister.

When Natsu had asked her the results of tailing Lucy, she had told him that nothing interesting happened. Which was a lie, but Juvia was beginning to learn something Phantom Lord had never taught her- the value of a white lie.

First of all, most of Lucy and Gray's conversation had been vague and open to interpretation (and her personal interpretation was too knotted with uncertain feelings to recount with clarity). Second, she couldn't have told him about going as a search party because that had been undecided and, Natsu being Natsu, would have got his hopes up and been crushed if the results were negative.

So when a servant nervously approached them claiming to have a message from Lady Ultear, she feigned surprise as though it was new to her. She'd become a surprisingly good actress.

Erza caught up, holding out the lamp. "If we're unable to find Wendy, then at least we should find a clue pertaining to what happened to her or her location."

None of them spoke of the possibility of Wendy not living long enough for them to rescue her.

Eventually, the trio came up to a stone wall, one with ivy crawling up it and other such plants blooming in the cracks- a contrast to the neatness all over the rest of the palace. A wooden door sat within it.

"Juvia recognises this… the herb garden?"

Natsu nodded. "We don't have a key, but that old door wouldn't be too hard to kick down."

"Is that really necessary?" Erza asked, folding her arms. "If I was an escaping kidnapper I would leave through a more direct route rather than crouching in there. Besides, Wendy didn't have a key either, so how would she get in? Why would there be anything useful in there?

"She could have climbed over the wall."

"Someone that small?"

Juvia walked up and tugged on the ivy once, twice, three times. On the last she put in all her strength and managed to snap off some of the plant. "The ivy here holds pretty well. Considering her weight, it wouldn't be too difficult for her to climb up it, though it must be pretty slippery from the rain."

Natsu turned to Erza, stubbornness in his eyes. "What if there's a clue in there? We can't let anything slip past."

After a few attempts, the three managed to get the door open and tumbled into the herb garden.

Erza swept the lantern in an arc to try and illuminate the area. It was a small garden so she mostly succeeded, but shadows lurked menacingly in the outer reaches. Luckily enough, what they needed to see was in plain sight.

"What's that?" Juvia asked to nobody in particular, making her way forward and bending down to lift up an abandoned lantern. It was unlit and the glass was chipped.

"So Wendy was out here?" Natsu suggested, coming close and peering at it as though he had never seen one before in his life.

Erza coughed. "Look at this rationally- we can't prove that it's Wendy's. It could have been left by one of the kitchen staff."

"Why so sceptical?" Juvia asked inquisitively.

"We can't jump to conclusions, or we could go down the wrong path. Besides, what business would she have down here?"

Whilst the two were talking, Natsu seemed to have noticed something only a little further away from the lantern. After inspecting it, he answered Erza's question. "Collecting herbs?"

"What makes you think- oh!"

Juvia turned to look. "Isn't that the basket that Wendy had earlier?"

"It sure is!"

Erza stroked her chin in thought, pacing back and forth. "So we know that Wendy was definitely in the herb garden, probably to make something… but from what we've heard, she was captured in her bedroom. So that means that she came in here, returned and then got taken?"

"So she dropped her lantern and went back in the dark?" Natsu said critically.

"No," Juvia interjected, "she ran into trouble here, dropped her stuff, ran away and made it back to her room. Then they took her."

* * *

><p>"Well, this is a mess."<p>

Lyon's words were something of an understatement. Wendy's normally neat and tidy room was now utter chaos. It was as though someone had swept their arm over the shelves and knocked everything they housed down into a hazardous field of books, ceramic, glass and upturned furniture. A still dripping cloak lay on the floor abandoned, a bent and dented candlestick beside it. The bedsheets were a tangled mess, but the only other item on it was a letter knife.

"Looks like she wouldn't go quietly."

Images flashed, imagination taking the scene and running with it. Wendy grabbing the small, almost useless knife and brandishing it with shaking hands. In the heat of the moment seizing the candlestick to parry a blow. Getting up and slipping on the wet floor, her attacker looming…

It wasn't something either brother liked to think of because the more they thought, the worse the images became.

But perhaps the most glaringly obvious clue was the French doors. They navigated the wreckage and bent down to examine.

"Judging by the glass, I'd say it was broken from the outside." Gray observed, looking out into the stormy sky as though the kidnapper was still there.

"So that's how he-" (for they had automatically assumed Wendy's captor to be male) "got in."

"Must have given the poor girl a shock."

"You're missing something."

The two looked up in surprise to see Ultear standing in the doorway, arms folded in her usual confident manner. "Idiots, both of you. Haven't you noticed?"

Gray got up, mirroring her pose. "Noticed what, genius?"

His elder sister shot him a spiteful glare before pointing to various objects. "The water, dunderheads. The bedsheets are wet, the cloak is wet."

"Well duh." Lyon deadpanned. "People tend to get wet when it rains, and I thought we'd agreed that the attacker came from outside."

Ultear rolled her eyes in despair before holding up the dripping cloak as far away from her as possible. "This is a child's size, and I highly doubt some highly trained kidnapping kid would have managed to smash their way in. So that means Wendy was outside at some point."

She smirked to see her siblings both avoiding admitting defeat.

"What we need to know is why she was out there."

Lyon piped up. "Natsu, Erza and Juvia are checking out the-"

The young woman cut him off sharply. "Who's Juvia?"

_What- oh sweet mother of Mavis what did I say?_

Luckily for Lyon, Gray changed the topic of conversation. "Why is that cat sniffing your leg?"

Looking down, his brother saw that yes, a snowy white cat was nosing his leg. But she didn't appear to be sniffing- it was more like nudging, trying to catch his attention. "Maybe it knows something?"

Ultear rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. "Please don't tell me you're taking advice from a cat. I know you two aren't the brightest but this is soaring to whole new levels of stupidity."

Gray took a moment to childishly stick his tongue out at her before watching Charle pad through the chaos and start pawing at something. Closer inspection revealed this to be a scrap of cloth.

"What's this supposed to be?" Lyon asked, holding it up to the light as though that would reveal hidden secrets. It didn't, so he contented himself with studying the design of it. "Just a bunch of thorns."

"Give me that!" Ultear stomped her way over and snatched it out of his grip, eyes roaming over it. For such a simple piece of fabric, it had a profound effect on the rarely vulnerable aristocrat- she paled a few shades, eyes widening the longer she looked at it.

Gray noticed this and made his way closer. "What do you know about it?"

She snapped out of her trance almost instantly, practically tossing it back. "Nothing at all. Lyon, keep that safe. I'll check up on a few things and tell you what I find out tomorrow night- or, if it's past midnight… you get my drift." Nodding at them in a no-nonsense manner, she left at a brisk pace, only avoiding tripping over the mess through sheer fortune.

Lyon frowned before tucking the scrap in his pocket. "Guess taking advice from cats paid off, huh?" He joked, though nobody laughed.

His brother exhaled in irritation. "She knows something about it, more than she's letting on." Unexpectedly, Gray turned and punched the wall, causing plaster to flake. "Dammit! Wendy's in trouble- what kind of game is she playing at?"

"I don't know. I don't think she even knows."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: What. What is this chapter? I'm not kidding, I don't know how I wrote it. I'm sorry.<strong>

**~Meg**


	13. All's Fair in Love and War

**AN: Let's play the 'how long does it take to write a chapter' game. For the record, I started this chapter on August 2****nd****.**

* * *

><p><strong>~ All's Fair in Love and War ~<strong>

"Natsu, there's no need to run!"

"Of course there is!" The prince turned back to yell at the two girls. The rain had soaked through his pink hair, making it hang limply around his face- a face that was, in stark contrast, lit up with some strange emotion, a mixture of excitement and, most prominently, hope, like a man stranded in the desert finding an oasis. "We've already got information- all we need to do is check the bedroom and we can find out who it was, right?"

No, it wasn't an oasis. He had found a canteen of water and presumed purely by this that the oasis was nearby. Juvia didn't have the heart to tell him that it wasn't so simple.

But Erza did. Easily catching up, she planted herself right in front of Natsu, arms folded and blocking his path. He only just managed to halt, slipping slightly on the wet grass before trying to evade her.

"C'mon Erza, let me through!"

She didn't speak for a while and when she did her voice was level, unshaking, attempting complete neutrality. "Just knowing _what _doesn't mean we know _who_, let alone _why _and, most importantly, _where_."

Had the circumstances been different, Natsu would have pouted or given a dismissive response. But this time he simply faced her, his own visage notably more composed than she would have expected. "It would make a good start."

"Stop being so irrational! You're acting like it's certain, like we can find the kidnapper and get Wendy back in a day!"

"Stop being so negative, I'm doing all I can. Any better ideas?"

"Well maybe if you'd stop and take a second to think instead of charging in! Things aren't always as certain as you think they are."

At this, Natsu's efforts to remain calm were vanquished. "I know that, but what other way forward is there? If it was your sister-"

"Juvia?"

Turning at Erza's surprised remark, Natsu just managed to catch Juvia, who had remained silent throughout their entire argument, running at full speed. "Where are you going?" He yelled. Either she didn't hear or didn't care to answer; whatever the reason, she kept on running without so much as stopping for breath.

* * *

><p>"How do we even know it came from the kidnapper?"<p>

"Do you recognise- who's there?"

Lyon swiftly snatched the scrap of cloth back and hastily shoved it in his pocket whilst Gray snapped round to confront the intruder. But when he saw the cold and wet dishevelled figure of Juvia staring at him through the doorframe he was knocked off guard.

"You shouldn't barge in like that."

"Next time you want secrecy, at least close the door." She deadpanned in reply, avoiding his gaze.

Lyon, having successfully stuffed the evidence safely away, looked up, smiling honestly at seeing Juvia (and serving to ease her tension). "We'll be sure to do that."

For a few painful seconds there was nothing but silence apart from Juvia's slow, heavy breathing. "Juvia just saw that there were people in here and was curi-ous," she heaved out the last syllable before pausing again to catch up on breath. "Have you found anything useful pertaining to the kidnapping?"

Finally, Juvia worked up the courage to look Gray straight in the eye. The results were unexpected but not greatly hindering: a shortness of breath (not like that was new, for she had run awfully fast without stopping, which was no small feat in such a long dress), her heartbeat becoming faster and more frenzied (again, a change so subtle it could have been easily overlooked) and sudden discomfort and feeling of lightheadedness. But she had been prepared for the strange effects this man held the ability to evoke and externally she showed no signs of being affected.

Lyon opened his mouth to answer before Gray cut him off. "No. Did you make any discoveries out in the garden?"

The air was thick with a decidedly unhealthy form of tension, one that clogged it so thickly that it clung to the inside of their lungs, metaphorically suffocating them. Juvia and Gray continued to stare each other down, each lying so blatantly that she could have quite easily collapsed to the floor and laughed until her diaphragm screamed in pain; it was so ridiculously childish and pointless.

"No, nothing outside either."

He spent a few more seconds just watching, giving her a chance to go back and apologize and tell the truth. But she stood firm, and so he narrowed his eyes in distrust before turning away. "That's a shame."

Luckily, Lyon spoke up and made Juvia literally want to hug him in relief. "There's no point carrying on tonight. We should get some sleep." Glancing at Gray and nodding, he turned and beamed at Juvia. "A pleasure as always."

The moment the two boys were gone, Juvia slumped against the doorframe, tipped her head back and exhaled, grateful to have regained the ability to breathe. She stood like that for perhaps a minute or two, focussing on nothing but inhalation and exhalation even though by now she had recovered- it served as a nice mental distraction from the scene that had just unfolded.

"You sure she went this way?" Came the incredulous voice of Natsu.

She took a second to compose herself before answering. "Juvia's here."

The sound of quickening footsteps and the familiar figure of the young prince was there, eyes narrowed. "Nice of you to tell us where you were going!" he said sarcastically. "Erza, she's down here!"

"Down where?"

"Wendy's room."

The group reassembled, Juvia making a point of closing the door for privacy's sake. "Juvia apologises- she noticed people in here and thought they could be useful."

"Apology accepted. Who were they?"

Juvia feigned interest in one of the book covers on the floor. "Gray and Lyon."

"What?" Erza asked rhetorically before returning to a more analytical approach. "So they were checking this place out. Did they find anything? Did you ask?"

_They did. They did but there's no way they're telling. I heard them, saw them, caught them at the last minute. They're hiding something._

"I asked, but there was nothing here apart from the mess." She gestured to the room, drawing attention to the chaos that had befallen it.

"Shit!" Natsu yelled, balling his hands into frustrated fists. "Now what do we do?"

Erza shot him a glance- _I told you, but you were too stubborn to listen. _Just when it looked like yet more conflict would take place between them, Juvia broke the silence.

"Give me until dusk tomorrow. I'll get what we need."

Both looked at her in shock and awe. "But you said there was nothing?"

_That's because if I told you, you'd charge in like the idiot you are. _"There are other ways. You've just got to be patient until then."

"I hate being patient." Natsu muttered bitterly.

For what seemed like the first time that night – or was it morning? – Erza agreed with him.

* * *

><p>"I'm sure, Meredy. It was only half of the emblem, but I could recognise that anywhere."<p>

"You sound surprised."

Ultear shrugged half-heartedly before continuing to drum her fingers on the table. "I didn't think they'd go ahead whilst we were directly opposing. I guess I overestimated my worth to them."

"Don't say that!" Meredy cried, honesty radiating from her face. "You're worth more than the whole lot of them put together!"

"As flattering as that is, I doubt they believe the same." Ultear replied, her smile at the younger girl being almost maternal. "And now they've gone directly against what we said… This was why I wanted her at the ball, so I could keep an eye on her."

"But the king wouldn't let you?"

"He usually lets me away with anything- usually because I'm right and he's too busy with King stuff and lets me run the internal affairs – but this time he put his foot down. Said he wasn't going to let her out there before she was of marriageable age and that it would be too dangerous for her." The young woman snorted humourlessly. "What was I supposed to tell him? That she was in danger no matter what?" She hung her head, absentmindedly tracing patterns in the wood with her fingertip. "Good god, I've really screwed up this time."

"Don't say that!" Meredy said, her voice strangely determined. "You've done great!"

"You know, I suspected who it was from the beginning. It took the cloth to finally convince me, because I spent hours denying the possibility."

Meredy folded her arms and frowned, her educated and rational side coming through. "You had no other choice. It would have been a disaster if you revealed your involvement."

"That's true, but the reasoning behind my actions was simple- I was a coward."

"Well, now we know for sure, we can go and rescue her – they won't have harmed her yet."

Ultear shook her head. "No, you stay here." Seeing Meredy ready to retort, she continued. "I've already dragged one kid into this. You're not much older than Wendy yourself."

"Don't underestimate me!" Meredy complained, hands balled into fists.

At this, Ultear did something strange: she reached out and ruffled Meredy's hair before getting up to leave. "I wouldn't dream of it. But I think it would be best for only one of us to go."

"What if it comes down to a fight?"

"I'll bring Lyon with me, and Gray if he insists. Those two are idiots but they're better than nothing. And the worst comes to the worst, they can escape with Wendy and I- well, I'll do my best."

Meredy sprang suddenly to her feet, wiping her eyes. "You'd better do your best and you'd better come back!"

"Of course I will. I've got unfinished business."

* * *

><p>At first, Wendy thought she was at home- the sheets felt soft, it was warm and she was drowsy. However, two glaringly obvious differences forbade her from denial. First of all, the smell was wrong, the overpowering scent of lavender mixed with coriander, as though somebody was trying to desperately cover up another stench. Second, she wasn't waking up to a cat nudging her irritably.<p>

Due to these unfamiliar surroundings she found herself in, Wendy restrained herself from opening her eyes and took a minute to listen. Sure enough, she could sense the presence of another person in the room, and this person was looking at her. Her fingers subconsciously tightened around the sheets, but she tried desperately to appear as though asleep.

"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

If there was ever a voice Wendy expected to hear from a kidnapper, this was not it. She'd been anticipating a deranged, raving psychopath or some gruff hulk of a man, not this solemn, borderline apologetic tone. She bit her lip uncertainly.

"I'm serious. You can wake up now."

Cautiously, pretending that she truly was waking up, Wendy opened her eyes and turned her head to try and absorb the room. It was neat and well-decorated, not the kind of dingy dungeon cell she had been anticipating being unceremoniously dumped in. Hazy sunlight shone through the window, illuminating each individual particle of dust as they danced on non-existent breeze. A vase of flowers sat on the windowsill, flowers that her half-asleep mind tried and failed to name. They looked fresh, but the bedside table and windowsill were both covered in a fine coating of dust, indicating either general disuse or lack of cleaning.

She took her time, but eventually ran out of ways to put off the inevitable encounter and turned to face her companion. He was slumped on a simple wooden chair in the further, more shadowy reaches of the room, regarding her dully. She noticed his strangest feature almost instantly, then averted her eyes when she realised she was staring.

"Who are you?" She croaked, her voice not as brave as she had hoped for it to be.

He took a few seconds to consider before answering. "I'm the only person you can trust right now."

It wasn't the kind of answer she had anticipated, but it certainly wasn't uninteresting.

"How can I trust you if you won't tell me your name?"

"Because you're currently in a dangerous position and I'm the most trustworthy person in this building, as preposterous as that might be. And you won't be able to make it out of this by yourself."

Wendy sat up, hugging her knees to her chest and noticing that she was still in her muddy, torn dress from the previous night- such a shame, for now the soft white linen sheets were dirtied. She regarded the man apprehensively; he didn't seem to pose a threat, but she knew better than to assume. "What is 'this'? I don't understand what's going on." Her voice trembled and she mentally scolded herself for being terrified.

"Look, unless you trust me to save you, these guys are going to kill you. I'd explain this later but-"

The door flew open. "Hey, Mysty, long time no see!"

"First of all, don't call me Mysty. Second, I thought I talked to you last night."

"This morning, actually. You look messed up- no sleep?"

"Some. Had to keep an eye on her."

This second man was something along the lines of what Wendy had been expecting; whilst 'Mysty' was well-built, he was lean and less overwhelmingly muscular than the newcomer. He had a wild mane of fair hair and, when she got a glimpse of his eyes, Wendy flinched instinctively away.

Unfortunately, he noticed, and turned to grin at her. "Don't be scared, I ain't gonna hurt ya! Well, not until Master Hades says the word anyway."

She wasn't comforted at all by this.

"You're our guest, Princess! Like our hospitality? Oh, and Azuma apologises for any bruising, but you really shouldn't have tried to fight."

Glancing down at her upper arm, Wendy noticed the bruising that he was referring to- an amethyst handprint marring her skin, already with blue-black splotches threatening to take over. She was no stranger to bruising, being one of those unfortunate people who bruised easily as well as having two boisterous young brothers, but never before had she received one of this size. And it wouldn't be unreasonable for this to just be one of many.

Mysty narrowed his eyes "Zancrow, leave her alone."

"Aww, Mysty, stop killing the fun! I'm just trying to stop her feeling the need to run away or something. Master Hades wouldn't be happy if she fell out of a window or died stupidly."

"You're not helping the situation." He murmured, casting an eye over to a trembling Wendy who was subconsciously hugging herself, even if it meant she was applying painful pressure to her bruise. She bit her lip to stop any sound escaping, toes curling up as she attempted to make herself as small and invisible as possible.

"Whatever. She'll be dead soon anyway."

* * *

><p>Juvia was currently trying not to think about her plan. As strange as this may sound, she had a simple reason - the more she thought about it, the worse an idea it became and the more reluctant she was to see it through. She didn't even know why she had thought of it, but she could not conjure up any other solution, despite constantly brainstorming during intervals between restless bouts of sleeps. It was a gamble, but the only one she could take.<p>

It only took a bit of enquiring and some enlightenment from her friends for Juvia to learn the palace's rough geography and her exact destination. The place was still in chaos from Wendy's kidnapping- a vast amount of the aristocracy had retreated to their own homes, whilst servants bustled to and fro trying to clean up and the guard were a nervous wreck, knowing that another mistake could cost them their jobs. With so much activity amongst servants, it was difficult for Juvia to navigate the palace without someone trying to recruit her for some task or other. All she had to do was politely explain that she was a personal servant and that particular enquirer would leave her alone. Sooner or later, she would pass another who would ask her to run an errand.

Thanks to this, Juvia's progression was painstakingly slow, giving her too much thinking time. At first she tried to ponder trivial matters (_maybe I should work more on my sewing so I stop stabbing myself with the needle, I'll fix that torn up apron, the palace garden is pretty_) but eventually her mind returned to where she knew it would go and she cursed the fact that every flaw in her plan was being flung back in her face.

_What if he doesn't have it?_ **Of course he would have it, it is important evidence and he would want to keep it as safe and secret as possible**. _What if he's not there? _**As big as the palace is, it surely wouldn't take anyone hours on end to track someone down, and Juvia is adept at finding targets. **_What if he catches on? _**He won't**_. _Juvia knew that was highly unlikely, and the reason why wracked her with guilt. The course of action she had decided upon was not right – morally grey at best – but what else was she supposed to do? Hell, why was she so affected? She used to kill people for a living, why did this seem like such a terrible thing to do?

Juvia crushed all these shrieking, contradictory banshees with the same justification that she had used for years: she was simply doing what was necessary.

Checking her surroundings and making certain that she was in the right place, Juvia took a deep breath and internally screamed for divine intervention to guide her safely. She wasn't religious, but right now she would accept assistance in any form.

After much hesitation, she knocked on the door.

"Come in. Seriously Gray, I'm-"

Catching sight of her, Lyon quickly shoved something (and Juvia was pretty sure of what it was so it was okay _the plan will work_) back into his jacket pocket, red with embarrassment. The room was a fairly bare one, located in the palace's furthermost reaches. Apart from a wooden table and some worn, mismatched chairs, the only things that occupied it were a haphazard pile of books on the table, none of which appeared to have been opened, and scraps of paper covered with drawings. Juvia was surprised to say the least- somehow, she had come to the conclusion that everything at the royal court glittered with grandeur. The afternoon sunlight filtered weakly through the only window.

"Juvia! What are you doing here?"

Closing the door behind her, she feigned a half smile. "Juvia just wishes to talk… if that's okay."

"Uh yeah, that's fine." He mumbled an apology, sweeping the papers off the table. Juvia caught quick glances of what was on them: many assorted signs, symbols and emblems, and a whole host of designs involving thorns. Some appeared to have been carefully thought out, but others were nothing more than quick scribbles, many crumpled up.

Kicking these under the table, Lyon dragged out a chair and awkwardly invited her to sit down.

Juvia shook her head and perched on the edge of the table, hands clasped together on her lap. For a brief few seconds Lyon engaged in some inner conflict before leaning next to her, arms folded.

"So, what did you want to say?"

Nausea settled itself in her stomach. "Juvia wants to apologise."

"What for?"

She swallowed- she technically wasn't lying because an apology _was _in order, but she was still withholding the truth. But then her more tactical mind swooped in- Gray had blatantly lied to her. So what was wrong with playing a little bit dirty? It wasn't like she was doing this for her own personal gain; in fact, her motives were almost completely selfless.

"For leaving like that last night. It was most improper and Juvia is sorry."

"Nah, it's okay. My fault for letting you go."

Perilous thoughts resurfaced, this time taking firm root at the forefront of her mind. "No. It was unfair that you should have been left without so much as a parting word. Juvia hopes you didn't take it personally."

"I'm sure you didn't mean any harm."

"But still," she shifted her body to face him more directly, for up until then they had both been staring in different directions, and he turned to look at her, surprised at this sudden change. "Juvia really ought to make it up to you."

Without giving him time to question what she meant, Juvia leaned forward and kissed him gently.

Juvia was surprised on the lack of effect this had on her. There was no great leap in her heart, no grand fanfare, only guilt almost choking her. The banshees were back, screaming at her, for once agreeing on something and deafening her to any poorly constructed arguments.

Following the plan and coinciding with her conscience, Lyon kissed her back passionately.

_You evil girl. You bitch. You whore. Toying around with somebody's feelings. Using them. Tricking them. You despicable human being. You._

She grabbed onto a lifeline, a way to distract herself from her mental chaos. Remembering her goal she reached over and slipped her fingers delicately into his pocket. Drawing out the scrap of fabric, she closed her hand around it, planning on returning it to her own apron pocket.

"Hey Lyon, I was thinking a-"

Every negative thought vaguely related to the plan was forcibly thrown into the pit of Juvia's stomach, so much that she could have vomited. Breaking away, both she and Lyon turned in surprise to see Gray, open mouthed in shock and what she interpreted as disgust, standing in the doorway.

Blushing and turning away, Juvia frantically pretended to brush herself down, not-too-subtly shoving the cloth into her apron pocket. Of all the things that could have gone wrong, this was possibly the only one she had not considered.

"Juvia has to leave." She said almost too quickly, hopping off the table and scurrying out. She only just managed to leave, brushing shoulders with Gray, and for a brief few nanoseconds their eyes met. Juvia didn't have it in her to try and interpret his thoughts.

First she walked briskly down the corridor, and then she broke into a run as soon as she had turned a corner.

_You. _**You. **_**You.**_

* * *

><p>"Thanks a ton, oh almighty Prince of Moment Killers."<p>

Gray glared, dumping himself on the chair that had been intended for Juvia. "I don't think I'm the one at fault here."

"Oh look, Lyon loves somebody. What a crime!" His half-brother shot back sarcastically, appearing just as hostile.

"There's a difference between a crush and making out with the mysterious knife girl that we know next to nothing about."

"That's easy for you to say, you're engaged to a princess!"

Gray snarled, his eyes icy. "You know better than anyone that it wasn't my choice, so don't go twisting it!"

The two brothers faced each other, each looking ready to punch the other in the face, but they turned away from each other instead.

It was a while until Gray spoke. "When did we last argue like this?"

And with that the aggressive atmosphere flew out of the window, replaced with something of an ashamed calm.

Lyon shrugged. "Ages ago. I mean, we argue all the time, but it's not usually this serious."

The prince laughed humourlessly. "I can't believe we're at each other's throats over a girl we barely know."

"She's beautiful. Her eyes are just so… blue. I can't decide what shade, but they're blue and they're rare. And she's got this strange way of communicating, y'know? It's weird and special at the same time." Gray could tell that Lyon was smiling.

"That doesn't change the fact that we know she's got ties with Natsu. She's a mystery."

"An enigma."

"Enigma, puzzle, mystery. The point is that we don't even know her."

"True." Lyon agreed. "You know, she kissed me first."

_Beat._

"Has it occurred to you that she might have had a reason?" Gray said cautiously.

_Beat._

Lyon snorted. "Of course she did-"

"No, not like that. You know, an ulterior motive."

_Beat._

"I hope not."

_Beat._

"Me too."

* * *

><p>Juvia, Natsu and Erza regrouped at dusk (as scheduled) to stare at the scrap of cloth that lay on the table.<p>

"What's that?"

"It was found in Wendy's bedroom. Presumably from the kidnapper's clothing."

Natsu frowned. "But you said they didn't find anything in there!"

"The cat had taken it." She lied, hoping that maybe luck would be on her side and nobody would catch her out on this.

Neither of them did. Erza picked it up and turned it over. "The thorns… they're probably some symbol."

"Or part of one." Natsu added, peering at it in confusion.

"Yes… I think I might recognise it but…" Juvia sighed. "I can't tell without the full symbol."

"Well..." Erza hunted for something to draw with. "It wouldn't be unreasonable to start with symmetry, right?"

Cautiously, she held the scrap against a piece of paper and tried to roughly sketch the other side. Several times she had to cross it out and start again, and the result didn't really appear like anything.

Natsu raised an eyebrow. "Great."

"Hang on a minute." Juvia intervened. "I think I recognise this…" Taking over, she added a few embellishments, putting on extra thorns and even adding a whole new section. Once she was done she stared, trying to grasp at the thoughts that were dancing at the edge of her memory. Neither Erza nor Natsu spoke until she stepped away.

"What is it?"

"Do you recognise it?"

"Juvia thinks so…" she said uncertainly. "An old friend did quite a few jobs for them back in the day. He used to show off all the time about how much they paid him."

Erza nodded. "And who are they?"

"It's a cult. They're called Grimoire Heart."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So my beta is in New York at the moment so I decided to give you the raw, unbeta'd version of this chapter in which I think I was evil. I should give you the beta'd version in around two weeks' time. So if it's horrible now you can dump all the blame on me.<strong>

**~Meg**


	14. Damsel In Distress

**AN: *cries over lateness***

_**Disclaimer: If I owned Fairy Tail... no. Just no.**_

* * *

><p><strong>~ Damsel in Distress ~<strong>

"_Carnage?"_

"_How'd you guess?"_

_The fifteen-year-old Juvia chuckled slightly, licking her thumb and rubbing dried blood off of her friend's cheek. "Because you've got blood on your everywhere. Honestly, Gajeel, try to be a bit cleaner when you're slaughtering people."_

"_Ew!" he complained, leaping away and muttering something about stupid girl spit and how Juvia was turning into an overbearing mother. This prompted her to giggle, causing many of the other guild members to turn and stare. It wasn't often that you saw Phantom Lord's next Rain Woman acting like a cute little girl, nor was it a common occurrence for the fabled Iron Dragon to be goofy: she was often stoic, he more of the vicious type._

_Even so, one could argue that they were only acting their age. Nobody said anything because despite this childish behaviour, it was well-known amongst guild members that they were prodigies. Only the best were ever chosen to inherit a position of one of the elite._

_Phantom Lord had a strange governing system, and perhaps that was its greatest strength. It took in children – runaways, street rats, orphans – and gave them the chance to be something. To have food to eat and a bed to sleep in. Those that agreed (and that was surprisingly quite a few) were taken in and trained. The weaklings were taken out, a few ran away and only the strongest remained. Of these, most would become regular assassins of Phantom Lord._

_But some became elite members. The Element Four was a tradition passed down, the greatest assassins of the guild. And they choose apprentices who would go on to take their roles, and they in turn would pass the title down for generations. Juvia was thirteen when she was selected to inherit the title of 'Rain Woman'._

_Gajeel was two years older than Juvia and even before she had entered the guild, he had been a strong contender to be its next guild master. In his eyes this meant superiority, especially over a little girl. In fact, they had spent their first year together absolutely despising each other._

_Once, however, when Gajeel got too unruly and, as punishment, had been deprived of food, she had saved some and smuggled it to him. It was a simple gesture, but because of it he always had her back in any situation. Eventually, they had to begrudgingly admit to being friends._

"_Yeah yeah, next time I'll be careful to not let my targets bleed too much when they're supposed to bleed to death," he said sarcastically._

_She rolled her eyes. "That doesn't mean that they have to bleed to death all over you."_

_He folded his arms, total lack of a comeback in no way remedied by his 'hmph'._

_They were walking through the halls with no particular place in mind. It's what they did. "This is why you can't go on missions alone. You get carried away."_

"_At least I do the job. Remember that time when you killed the entirely wrong person?"_

"_That's because you had made the place a warzone and Juvia had to hurry and escape!"_

"_You never actually fight."_

_She punched his shoulder playfully. "That's because we're assassins, not mercenaries."_

"_Sure thing, princess."_

_Juvia pouted at his nickname. "Will you ever stop giving Juvia girly nicknames?"_

"_Nope. Sorry, Rain girl."_

"_Rain _woman._"_

_He ruffled her hair and she scowled like she always did when he teased her. "You're Rain girl for now."_

_After more bickering, she sighed and ran a hand through her hair to try and smooth it out. "So, how was the job?"_

"_These weird cult guys hired me again, this time to take down one of their own members. This guy – Zoldeo, I think? – had this really fancy house and all. I did it, of course-" Juvia guessed that this wasn't easy from the fact that, under the blood she had tried to wipe off, a purple bruise was forming. "-and then his maid turned up and started screaming so I had to kill her too. Before I know it there are people dying left right and centre. Anyway, I get back and these Grimoire Heart bastards get mad at me for making a mess. I mean, it wasn't my fault that she screamed!"_

"_You never learn, do you?" Juvia sighed, half-smiling at him. "That's not the kind of attitude the next guild master should take."_

_Gajeel went on to explain how his target had supposedly left the mansion to his fellow cultists in his will before finishing off with an indignant, "And they didn't even pay me! All the other times they paid so much you'd think they were made of money, but this time they turn around and refuse!"_

"_Maybe you should take the hint." And then, when Juvia heard him chortling to himself, she turned and raised an eyebrow. "What?"_

"_I took my own payment." He reached into his inner pocket and brought out a necklace. It looked nice enough, gold and studded with semi-precious stones, but Juvia was more intrigued by the emblem on it- a strange pattern of thorns. "Happy birthday!"_

_She waved a dismissive hand. "Two months late. Besides, Juvia doesn't want any presents. Especially stolen cult necklaces."_

"_Learn to live a little! Just because you were training and I was kicking ass."_

"_Correction- you were messing up your job."_

"_Yeah yeah, Rain girl."_

* * *

><p>"A word with my fiancée, please?"<p>

Her words had such a sharp edge to them that they sliced clean through Lyon's train of thought, flinging him away from his emotional turmoil and into a different situation altogether. Turning around and away from the horse he was tending to, he saw a face that was recognisable but by no means familiar to him. He had _heard _plenty about his future sister-in-law and had seen her from a distance, but of course he'd never been within so much as a ten meter radius of the Princess Lucy Heartfilia, let alone exchanged any words with her. According to the entire royal court she was both stunning and charming- whilst the former was a matter of opinion (Lyon preferred Juvia's visage to Lucy's more traditional beauty), she certainly wasn't making any charming first impressions. From what Gray had said, he knew that she was intelligent and caring but also proud and feisty when she wanted to be. He guessed that right now she was in one of her more fierce moods.

His reaction must have been somewhat delayed, prompting her eyes to narrow as she folded her arms. "I would like to speak with Gray, if you would be so kind as to fetch him for me." She rephrased her previous demand with clean-cut diction, but her cocoa coloured eyes softened when she realised the harshness of her words. "Please." She added at the end.

What was the proper etiquette when speaking to a princess? Was he supposed to bow and say 'Yes, your majesty'? Or was 'your highness' more appropriate? Or was that too formal for this specific occasion that involved kidnapped twelve-year-olds? The possibility of being confronted by this girl had never really crossed Lyon's mind.

Luckily, a much more familiar voice saved him. "What do you want, Lucy?"

Her eyes hardened once again. "Hello, Gray. How kind of you to tell me that you were planning on taking off in the dead of the night without so much of an explanation," she drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm. Noticing the tense air, Lyon slinked away to a safe distance.

"Lucy, I've really not got time," Gray said exasperatedly.

"Fine, I'll cut to the chase. I want to come."

"What?"

Lucy folded her arms and straightened her back. "I want to come and help save Wendy."

A long silence stretched to form a gaping chasm. The chasm grew wider and the rickety rope bridge grew taut, ready to-

"No."

-snap at any moment.

"Pardon?" Lucy asked rhetorically, voice tight and curt.

"No way in hell am I letting you come."

The young princess dropped her composed façade, making no more attempts to mask her frustration. "What do you mean, 'no way in hell'? Are you just going to shove me to the sidelines like you did last night?"

_**We used to be friends.**_

Gray shook his head, running a hand through his raven black hair. "Lucy, it's not like that."

"It's exactly like that!" She shot back, hands balling into fists around the sky blue satin of her skirt. "I know you think it's vital to keep your _precious pawn_," she spat out the two words, extra venom added to the alliteration, "Safe from all harm, but that's not the way it works."

_**You used to shove me in fountains without a second thought, and we both found it funny.**_

It was obvious that her words cut deep- they somehow managed to make Gray's already coal black eyes darken. "What makes you think that I don't care? You're my best friend-"

"And Wendy is your half sister! You're going to need all the help you can get, and Lisanna and I are going to help! You know as well as I do that I'll be perfectly safe if she's there. Believe it or not, I want to come and I am entitled to having my own opinions and desires!"

_**You used to actually talk to me.**_

"Stop thinking that I don't care about what you think!"

"Then stop acting like you don't!"

_**Tell me,**_

"Why do you always have to blow things out of proportion?"

"Why do you always have to overlook the importance of things?"

_**When did we stop being friends and start being enemies?**_

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat. "I hate to interrupt your little lovers' tiff, but I'm afraid we're short of time."

It was Ultear. She was quite blatantly irritated- she had been since Lyon confessed that he must have 'misplaced' the scrap of cloth that somehow counted as evidence. Tension had mounted between the three siblings: Gray knew exactly where the evidence had been 'misplaced' and had been shooting Lyon dirty looks whilst Ultear was both infuriated by one brother's incompetence and the other's obvious withholding of information. The result of this was a hostile atmosphere that Lucy was only serving to worsen. She smiled sweetly – as sweetly as Ultear would ever be able to manage – and fluttered her fan (seriously, how come her wrist hadn't died yet?). "I am afraid none of us are available to escort you back to your room." _So stay out of our way._

Lucy couldn't form a response to this at first, and Lyon actually pitied her as he knew very well how intimidating his sister could be. To the princess' credit, she regained her composure and flashed an equally sickly sweet smile. "Don't you fret about it; I am perfectly capable of escorting myself, though I thank you for taking my safety into consideration." She mock curtsied a little too low. "I bid you goodnight and a safe journey." Lucy practically sang in a sugar coated voice before turning and leaving the three siblings to their quest.

After witnessing her act of subtle rebellion, Lyon couldn't help but respect her.

* * *

><p>"Any luck?" Lisanna whispered, attempting to stifle a yawn as she straightened, having been slumped against the wall. A shake of Lucy's blonde head indicated the negative. "Well, that's no surprise."<p>

The young princess joined her best friend, smoothing down the crinkled fabric of her skirt. "Yeah, no surprise. Still brushing me off as always," she murmured bitterly. They had chosen one of the narrower, less used corridors to avoid running into anybody: not that anyone but the guards and maybe a few servants would be awake at this time, much less out and about – especially in the aftermath of the previous day's kidnapping.

Lucy liked Wendy. She was sweet and genuinely possessed a heart of gold. Even more so, however, she was completely innocent. What happened was unjust and Lucy wanted to take part in the rescue of this poor, maligned little girl. At the very least, she wanted to know where on earth the trio were going. But she couldn't because she was a woman, a princess and a valuable weapon in the Fullbuster-Milkovich arsenal. Except she was a weapon that they'd never bother using in combat, but that they'd mount on the wall for decoration. People would pass by and remark on the craftsmanship, but it would have never done anything meaningful. What a waste of a blacksmith's time.

"It could just be that he cares for you, you know. You _are_ like a sister to him," Lisanna said consolingly, trying her utmost best with the same stock line that had lost its meaning.

"Like a sister? He respects his sister. I can't say the same for myself."

"He knows that Ultear-"

She was cut off when Lucy held out a finger to hush her friend, brow furrowed in concentration. Lisanna blinked.

"I thought I heard someone," Lucy murmured slowly, brown eyes scanning the corridor.

Lisanna picked up on the next footstep easily, eagerly standing straight again. If it was a guard, they could come up with an excuse: none of them would be willing to speak out against the princess, although being escorted back and having all chance of helping save Wendy evaporate would be a slight inconvenience. If it wasn't…

Her plans dissolved when the figure poked their head around the corner. The body that followed was petite, swathed in a cloak that grazed the ground and was almost too big. The oversized hood flopped down so low that it was surprising this person could even see.

Lucy and Lisanna were stunned as the figure came closer and dropped into a clumsy curtsy. "Your high- your maj- milady, I believe I could be of assistance to you." Her voice was girlish, but dead serious.

Worried by the lack of distance between the mysterious figure, who could easily be lethal, and the sole heir of the Celestial Kingdom, Lisanna shuffled between them and held out an arm, signifying that Lucy was to step back. Realising this, the blonde did as suggested before folding her arms. "And who are you?"

Small, calloused hands fumbled to bring down her hood. It was a face that was vaguely familiar, but also one that neither girl had knowledge of a name to associate with it.

"My name is Meredy. I am a member of Grimoire Heart."

* * *

><p>Wendy lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Having probably spent hours doing this, she had noticed small cracks and drifts of cobwebs. This wasn't a commonly used room but at least the sheets were fresh. It was rather nice considering that her hosts wanted to kill her.<p>

'Mysty' was the one she could trust- or so he said. Wendy wasn't an idiot and she knew she wouldn't make her way out of this by herself. But what possible motive could he have? She couldn't imagine how her situation could be any worse, but neither did she see how this man could possibly benefit.

Surely somebody was coming to save her? She was a princess after all. The entire royal guard would be trying to rescue her, even if there was a zero percent chance of her inheriting the throne. Natsu would be trying his absolute hardest. Everybody would.

"_Why do they want me?"_

_Mysty turned, having briefly come just to toss a non-muddy dress at her. It was the first time she had spoken out since the Zancrow encounter and the realization of this prompted the young princess to clap a hand over her mouth._

_He managed something that could pass as a smile as he closed the door and leaned against it. "You've not done anything wrong, don't worry."_

_Wendy frowned, now with nothing to occupy her hands with, and proceeded to wring her fingers. "I guess that just makes it worse."_

_Mysty managed a light chuckle. "They're just mad, really. Ever heard the legends of Acnologia?"_

"_First king of Fiore?"_

"_And a powerful dark mage."_

_She tilted her head to the side. "But magic doesn't exist."_

"_Right. Only they think it does. And to bring it back, they want Acnologia."_

_Wendy bit her lip, digesting this information. "How do I factor into this?"_

"_These guys have somehow got it into their heads that by sacrificing one of his descendants – that's you, by the way – they can summon his spirit. Some in depth analysis of the myth. But the bottom line is that they're all mad as hatters and you were an easy target."_

_Of course she was. She was alone. She didn't know how to defend herself. Nobody would ever suspect that Wendy was in danger- not when two brothers were caught in a political battle. Natsu and Gray were the suspected targets, not the insignificant youngest princess. "So how are you involved?"_

_He stood up straight and came closer, absentmindedly smoothing down the bedsheets. "That's none of your concern. Beggars can't be choosers."_

Wendy stretched and flung herself at a pillow, unsure of whether sleep would calm her nerves or if she was too scared to sleep. Even if she was able, she wouldn't with this lumpy pillow.

She froze. The pillow hadn't felt like that before. Bolting back upright, Wendy crawled around, picked up the pillow and flung it behind her. There was a crash as it knocked down a vase, but such a noise failed to even catch her attention.

Sitting there on the mattress was a dagger. Plain as porridge but obviously sharp. Was that what Mysty had been doing when he randomly fumbled around with the bedsheets?

Cautiously, she reached out. It was lighter than she had expected, but her sweaty palms made the hilt slippery. Rubbing them on her dress, she tried again, staring at this weapon as though it could fly out of her grasp and into her chest at any moment.

Biting her lip, Wendy tightened her grip and thrust the dagger into the mattress. It wasn't the same as stabbing a person, but it somewhat assured her that she wasn't completely defenceless.

Mysty was her ally and she decided to trust him.

* * *

><p>"Sorry, I can't let you in."<p>

Would the guard be talking so carelessly if he knew the identities of the three hooded people in front of him? It was shocking how unprofessional he was. Anyone, no matter how incompetent, would have no trouble infiltrating if all the guards were this poor.

The front figure stepped forward, fan fluttering and stirring up a slight breeze, enough to ruffle her hood. The other unoccupied hand reached for her throat before coming out with a necklace, a gold one in a pattern of thorns decorated with pearls.

"There. Now let me in," she demanded.

"Sorry ma'am. Security's tight tonight."

One of the others stepped forward, but the woman held out a hand in warning. "Do you know what this necklace means?" she asked.

"Sure. You're one of the Seven Kind of Purgatory."

Her fanning slowed down. "Good boy. I need to enter alongside my associates."

"No can do."

She sighed before reaching up and pulling her hood down. "I am Ultear Milkovich, member of the Seven Kin of Purgatory. So let me in now."

It was a direct order but the guard- he must have been new – just chuckled and leaned forward. "I suspected so."

"What does that mean?"

You'd have to be related to Ultear to notice that her voice quivered ever-so-slightly, or that her shoulders twitched as she forced them not to tense. It was difficult to ever spot her in a moment of weakness.

The guard folded his arms. Idiot. "You see, I'm under specific orders to not let you or your little lapdog in." He just insulted Meredy.

Ultear raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?" She questioned. "You know that you've left yourself defenceless. And getting so close was not a good idea."

Before he could fully process her threat, she snapped her fan shut with a flick of her wrist and, with one jab, dug its heavy iron framework into the back of his neck. And just like that, she had knocked a grown man out in a matter of seconds.

There was a pause before Gray and Lyon flung their hoods up. Ultear nonchalantly began fanning herself.

"I always wondered why you kept that with you at all times."

Gray received a triumphant smile. "It's amazing what you can do with pressure points."

The other brother folded his arms, peering at her victim. "Is he dead?"

She kneeled down, pressing two fingers to the side of his neck. "Not yet. It would probably be best to silence him permanently, wouldn't it?" The young woman said casually, running a finger along the edge of her fan. This resulted in a small cut as a scarlet drop of blood came out. "Sharp enough, I should think."

It took her one quick movement and the unfortunate guard was drowning in his own blood. Wiping her now bloody fan on his clothing, she straightened and turned to her siblings. "Now we've gone and killed someone, you can bet that this place is going to turn into a bloodbath. You two travel together. Keep your hoods up and try to blend in. With any luck, you'll find Wendy before all hell breaks loose."

Lyon shot a glance at Gray. "I think we're fine travelling alone."

"Whatever, but don't blame me if you die."

"I'm more concerned about you," the prince said, "Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"Gray, have you been blind for the past five minutes?"

The darker haired brother shook his head. "I was just wondering."

She got up, readjusted her hood and tucked her hair away. "Let's just say that I need to have a little chat with Master Hades."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm so extremely sorry. You have no idea how bad my writer's block was. This chapter's not the best, but I really felt bad making you guys wait for so long. So whoops, here's a filler.<strong>


	15. Invasion

**Invasion**

"Ultear's been here." Meredy stated simply, standing straight and folding her arms. She darted a glance towards her two companions – Lisanna was looking around to survey the area whilst Lucy's already fair complexion had become a noticeable few shades paler at the scene of carnage.

"How can you tell?" She asked, voice about as unaffected as she could manage. For the princess' sake, Lisanna hoped for a gentle answer. Nothing too blunt.

Meredy was, unfortunately, painfully blunt. "There's a bruise on one of his pressure points on the back of his head, and the slit on his throat looks as though it was done by a serrated edge. That's Ultear's style."

Lisanna looked towards Lucy, who had averted her gaze from the man's corpse and was in visible discomfort. Briefly, she wondered whether this was a good idea after all. Lucy was far from useless, but she was rather delicate and unaccustomed to cold blooded killing. Not that anything else could be expected from a young woman, especially one with an upbringing such as hers – it was only that Lisanna was worried about the impact this could have on her friend. Lucy was already anxious enough around her soon to be sister-in-law, and finding her to be a ruthless murderer could only shake her more.

Nevertheless and to her credit, Lucy managed to compose herself and look the stoic Meredy almost straight in the eye. "Where is Wendy?" She asked with a hint of impatience.

She was answered with a blank stare followed by a shrug from the younger girl as she pulled up her hood. "I don't know. You guys will have to find her."

"What?"

Lisanna let this settle for a moment. "We agreed to provide transport on the basis that you would act as our guide."

For the first time, there seemed to be something mildly childish and undeniably human in Meredy's face, although it was mostly cloaked by her oversized hood. "Ultear is in a load of trouble. I need to help her."

The white haired girl looked about to protest when Lucy held out a hand to silence her and nodded in approval, to which Meredy awkwardly half-bowed, half-curtsied before rattling out instructions.

"It's too dangerous to travel around here, so go outside into the garden. Stick near the building until you find an alternative entrance, and keep your hoods up. We'll meet by the drained fountain in the garden in two hours- if I'm not back with Ultear by then, leave without me. Thank you." Then she turned on her heels and swiftly flew around the corner, cloak billowing out behind her.

Lucy waited until the sound of her footsteps on the marble floor had faded before she shook her head. "That girl is too young for this."

* * *

><p>Ur never smiled in Fiore.<p>

Ultear had little recollection of their time in the kingdom of Seven, apart from the fact that the weather was bitterly cold and the people were warm hearted. In a land that was so hostile in itself, strong bonds of loyalty were formed to survive and her mother, even as the widowed baroness with a known illegitimate child, was a figure almost universally adored for her wit, intelligence and strength of heart.

She was beautiful, and when King Igneel of Fiore fell for her almost at first sight, Ultear had assumed that the future was bright.

Fiore was almost the exact opposite of Seven – temperate in climate, but the people of the court were as glacial as any. A foreigner of what was considered low birth with an illegitimate son was not the queen they wanted, good looks aside. Lyon, being at such a young age, was unaffected by their harshness; Ultear had only a basic grasp of their language, but sense enough to understand their tone, as did her mother. Both had quick minds, but the younger girl possessed a natural ability to adapt and learn fast (as is with all in their youth) and so the Fiore tongue became more and more familiar to her. The more it did, the more she wished it wouldn't.

It was then that the flaws in Ur and Igneel's marriage became apparent. Namely in the huge language barrier between them – Ur had scarcely any understanding of the Fiore language and Igneel's ability at their mother tongue was clumsy at best. What had seemed like a love at first sight fairy tale romance turned sour before their very eyes, and Ur was powerless to stop it.

At first she attempted to hide this from her daughter and hide behind a mask of content. This cracked, and then Ultear became Ur's confidant at the tender age of three. The queen – known spitefully amongst the royal court as 'The Ice Queen' or 'Her Frostiness', amongst many other less tame names – was utterly miserable, and Ultear could recall next to no occasions when her mother managed a smile.

However, a glimmer of hope came three years after the marriage. Ur was pregnant! Should this child be male, it would mean many things; an heir to the throne, a seal on Ur and Igneel's marriage, acceptance amongst the court, happiness and a good life ensuing. On the other hand, should it be a girl, it was almost certain that Igneel would divorce his wife- it was no secret that their marriage was at an all-time low.

Ultear was four years old when Gray was born, Lyon being one year younger. She remembered crying with relief when the news of a boy came, hugging her three-year-old brother tightly and telling him that there would never be bad times again. The bad times came again shortly afterwards when news of their mother's death came and Ultear found that she still had tears left to shed.

And so, before he could even walk, Gray was their linchpin- the thing that held the family together, that gave them a reason to remain in Fiore. Without him, Lyon and Ultear were nothing.

News of Grandine came. Ultear and her brothers weren't at the wedding, nor did any of them have any contact with her. She came to despise this woman, this succubus, who had replaced her mother. She had none of Ur's qualities, none of her pure heart. She was nothing but a Fiorean wench who had no right to take the title held once by Ur, and her son was just a brat who had no right to the throne that was Gray's.

Ultear was going to get Gray on that throne, for herself, for Lyon, for Ur.

Grandine died when Ultear was nine, and that was the point when she began to plot and plan. Natsu had the obvious advantage in obtaining the throne – he was of pure Fiore descent and he had always been the king's favourite. This wasn't a battle that Gray would win on his own, nor would victory be achieved without playing dirty.

Ultear spent much time in the library, sometimes forgetting to sleep in her thirst for knowledge. She made her intelligence known, showcased her competency in politics. When she was twelve, this caught the eye of the king, who began to pay much more attention to his stepdaughter. Igneel was no genius, but he appreciated Ultear's intellect in comparison to his much less academic sons, and would often request her company. Ultear's relationship with her stepfather was in no way a familial one, but it was close. Not that she had any form of emotional connection to the man; she only appreciated the influence this bond gave her.

At the age of fifteen, she first heard of Grimoire Heart in passing. A bit of persistence and an initiation ceremony lead to her becoming a member, shortly afterwards (after a little dirty work) one of the Seven Kin of Purgatory. As with her relationship with Igneel, this was of no emotional or heartfelt context: she didn't believe in any of the cult's gabble for a second. But they brought with them an influence, connections that she would otherwise lack. The only other thing she received from them was Meredy.

Originally, Ultear saw no reason to care for this snot-nosed orphan, whose family had been lost to Grimoire Heart. But she begrudgingly took the girl under her wing, and this girl became a more and more important part of her life. However, Ultear was not soft, and she wasn't about to let Meredy become soft either. So she made sure Meredy was trained to become both a daughter and a tool, to do her dirty work when others could not. It would not be for some time that she would come to regret this decision.

Another point in the plan was marriage. It was simple logic, really. Marriage in itself would be a great advantage to Gray, and marriage to the sole heir of the Celestial kingdom, which was smaller than Fiore yet incredibly prosperous, was hugely in his favour. Really, there was no reason for Gray to _not _marry Lucy- she was young, rich, able to bear children and popular amongst both the people of Fiore and of her homeland. So, at the age of eighteen, she advised Igneel during one of their meetings that perhaps it was time for his son to be betrothed. Then she wrote to King Jude and, within a short period of time the deal was made. The Fullbuster-Milkovich were now a force to be reckoned with, and nothing could go wrong.

Something did go wrong when a crazy idea surfaced in the mind of Master Hades- of sacrificing the princess. Needless to say, she and Meredy stood firmly against it. Now, Ultear couldn't claim to care particularly about Wendy, a timid little slip of a thing, but she didn't want unnecessary bloodshed, nor did she want the chaos that would come of her death. Ultear was glacial at best, but she wasn't completely heartless- she only killed those who either stood in her way or whose deaths would advance her towards her goal. Wendy fitted into neither of those categories.

So she attempted plan B- keeping Wendy near the guards and near herself in particular. Igneel crushed this hope; it was one of the first times he had ever said no to her. And so Ultear had simply worked on the logic that Grimoire Heart would not carry out the plan without her.

Oh, how wrong she had been.

And now Ultear was stalking what she knew to be the least used corridors of Grimoire Heart's base. Through this route she would not reach Master Hades with great speed, but she would be able to avoid confrontation as far as possible. She was not defenceless by any stretch of the imagination, but she wasn't an upfront fighter. Her methods lay in surprise and precision.

A thumping sound lead to her rolling her eyes and not even attempting to move. Not only would Kain not know subtly if it smacked him in the face, but he was also the least dangerous thing in all of Fiore as far as Ultear was concerned. This blubbering buffoon was pathetic, and how he ever came to be a member of the Seven Kin of Purgatory was beyond her understanding.

Sure enough, the figure of Kain Hikaru came into view. He was wiping sweat from his chalky pale brow, muttering to himself until he saw the unimpressed Ultear.

"U-Ultear!"

"Get out." She said simply.

He blinked. "B-but we've been told to ki-"

"I don't care. Get out."

Without waiting for a response, she strode past him. "I'm going to have a chat with Master Hades. Go away, get a job, lose some weight and get a haircut that isn't stupid. You'll die if you stay here, incompetent fool." She left him stuttering. Mercy had been optional; the only thing that had stopped her from knocking Kain unconscious was the fact that she probably couldn't even reach his pressure point through layers of flab, and he really wasn't worth the trouble.

Ultear Milkovich was a self-made woman, and she had no time for the weak. She had a goal and she was going to achieve it.

* * *

><p>"Why couldn't we just take the front door?" Natsu moaned. Juvia rolled her eyes whilst Erza quickly smacked him over the head. The three had opted to travel through the dishevelled, wildly overgrown garden in order to find an alternative entrance, and had completely failed to get along.<p>

"We can't just stroll in; we're going in, getting Wendy and heading out. And pipe down!" The scarlet haired knight hissed.

Natsu scowled, resulting in an armoured elbow to the ribs. Erza continued to whisper sharply. "You insisted on tagging along, so keep quiet! Honestly, why did you come if all you're going to do is complain?"

The prince glared. "She's my sister! I can't just abandon her!"

"Well, being loud and making a scene isn't going to help her!"

They probably would have continued bickering for quite some time – they seemed to have done nothing but ever since she had refused to disclose the identity of the mysterious Jellal – had Juvia, who had until then been silent and tolerant of them, not stopped and held out a hand to signal silence.

"Someone's coming."

Upon halting the trio heard that there were faint footsteps besides their own. Whilst at such a distance they could not distinguish a particular number, there was certainly more than one person approaching. Taking the initiative (for that was what she always did), Erza grabbed her two companions and dragged them into the nearest foliage to hide. In such an untended garden they found that the shrubbery was ample enough cover to shield them from view.

The mysterious people approached. There appeared to be two of them. Erza tapped each of them on the shoulder, silently indicating where they were to go. Neither Juvia nor Natsu opposed her; he was royalty and she a deadly killer, but they both acknowledged that the lady knight was the superior tactician among them.

They came closer, both shrouded by dark hoods. If that wasn't suspicious, Juvia wasn't sure what was. She glanced at Erza, sapphire eyes wide in anticipation of some signal, and reached out to the folds of her skirt to retrieve a knife.

Erza didn't signal, as such, only leapt out to confront them, causing Natsu and Juvia to follow suit. As assigned, Juvia took the one on the far side, holding a knife to their throat before they were even aware of what had happened; Natsu, on the other hand, grabbed the one closer to their hiding spot and held them in a firm headlock. Erza, rather than confining the pair as the others had done, blocked their path, sword pointed directly at them. Juvia's captive had frozen the moment they felt cool steel, but Natsu's was struggling, wriggling and writhing and attempting to prise off his strong grip. They did not appear to be particularly muscular and, as such, were fighting a losing battle- but they were at least making a valiant attempt and it was taking notable effort on Natsu's behalf to resist.

"Don't shoot." Erza stated, pointing her sword at Juvia's hostage. Juvia frowned, confused as to what this could mean, before peeking around and understanding. It had struck her as strange that this person had not made any attempt whatsoever to defend themselves; now, seeing that they held a crossbow aimed at the prince (who was occupied with his feisty captive and as such had not noticed), she understood instantly.

However, upon order, the person lowered their weapon and spoke. "Erza?"

It was a voice that Juvia recognised from just the day before, and one that Erza seemed to know well, judging by the way her cocoa brown eyes widened and she lowered her weapon. "Lisanna? What are you doing here? Does Mirajane know?"

Disbelieving, Juvia took down the person's hood to see a shock of snowy white, upon which she stepped back to let her go. Lisanna turned, crystal blue eyes widening at the sight of the other girl. "Well, I wasn't expecting to see you here, Miss Juvia."

They had finally succeeded in catching Natsu's attention as he noticed Lisanna; this slip provided an opportunity for his captive to stamp on his foot, elbow him sharply in the gut and twist their way out of his grip. The moment they were free they tore their hood down, revealing the dishevelled and furious face of Lucy Heartfilia.

"What was that for?" She demanded, still out of breath from her struggling. Natsu looked up and then appeared as though he had just seen a ghost before taking on an expression of annoyance.

"What are you doing here?"

"Answer my question!" Lucy hissed

"You answer mine!" He shot back.

The princess folded her arms and frowned, glaring up at him. "Oh, you know, just casually _frolicking around with a bunch of crazed cultists!_ What do you think I'm doing, idiot? I'm saving your sister!"

Natsu exhaled, making a visible effort to stay under control and failing spectacularly to disguise this fact. "It's too dangerous for you, just go home."

If Lucy had been angry before, it was nothing compared to the rage that took over her then. She was positively seething with fury. "Oh no. Don't you dare pull a Gray on me!"

The prince was readying a counterattack before Erza intervened. "Is Gray here too?"

The blonde turned, somewhat surprised as recognition of the presence of others snapped her out of her rampage. "Yeah. His entire crew is here."

"Even Lyon?" Juvia asked, her voice rising ever so slightly in pitch.

Lisanna nodded. "Ultear too. She's got inside knowledge."

Erza paced back and forth in thought while the others watched in anticipation (except Natsu and Lucy who were occupied with a vicious staring contest). She began to mutter before seemingly coming to a conclusion and turning to consult her companions.

"If that's true, then there are eight of us in total-"

"-nine." Lisanna interjected, catching Erza off guard and causing both her and Juvia to look at her quizzically. "If you count Meredy."

The red haired knight frowned. "Is she on our side?"

"More or less."

"Good. Okay, there are nine of us out to get Wendy back- that's going to attract a lot of attention. Travelling as one unit would be just asking for trouble. I don't know what the others have done, but I say we should split into groups of two at the most. And since there are five of us, that would mean at least one of us has to go alone."

Glances were exchanged before Lisanna spoke up. "Well, we can't let those two go together, that's for sure." She jerked her head towards the two teenage royals, who had torn their attentions away from each other and instead directed them towards the rest of the group. "Their squabbling would attract every psycho in the building."

Both seemed about to retaliate before Erza held out a hand to silence them. "And both are relatively inexperienced fighters – don't look at me like that Natsu, it's true – so they can't go alone."

Lisanna shrugged. "Well, I'm Lucy's lady-in-waiting, it's my job to follow her around. So I'll look after her." She stated, grabbing the blonde by the arm and dragging her away from Natsu.

Juvia nodded in agreement. "Similarly, it is Juvia's job to keep Natsu safe."

"In which case, I shall travel alone." Erza said, turning to leave. "May I ask what the cloaks are for?"

"Meredy told us to wear them. All those guys wear them. Plus, they do a good job of disguising our identities."

Erza considered this. "In which case, I shall have to obtain one of my own. Juvia, get a pair for yourself and Natsu. Everyone should attract as little attention as possible- the goal is to retrieve Wendy as quickly and quietly as we can.

Lucy, having finally calmed down, folded her arms. "We agreed to meet Meredy by the drained fountain in two hours – that was probably fifteen minutes ago. If any of us don't get back in time, I suggest getting Wendy away as a first priority."

"And then?"

She shrugged. "The people who made it can make a group decision on how to proceed."

"We're not leaving anyone behind." Natsu said matter-of-factly. Lucy started and turned around to meet his determined gaze.

For the first time, she smiled. It wasn't even a slight smile- it was a sunny glow that spread out across her face until it shone. "Of course we aren't."

* * *

><p>She had been sitting cross-legged on the bed for a while, hands folded on her lap and knife hidden under her folded hands. Wendy was surprised at just how long she had managed to stay in the same position and not budge. After a bit of rearranging of the bed sheets to disguise the stab wound in the mattress (she really should have thought that through), Wendy had found herself with little to do but stare at the door in anticipation.<p>

But try as she might, eventually she became stiff from maintaining this position and flopped back down on the bed to stare at the ceiling. The non-muddy dress they had given her was pure white satin and slightly too big, but it wasn't too uncomfortable. She had spent so much time that day staring at the ceiling that Wendy was pretty sure she knew every crack and cobweb by now.

Really, being a sacrifice was one of the dullest experiences Wendy had ever had.

After drifting off to sleep again, she woke to the sound of knocking on the door. It was dark by now, and her eyes took time to adjust to the lack of light and her own surroundings- part of her had hoped that this was a nightmare and only the feel of now-clammy metal in her hand proved otherwise.

Having finally processed that this situation was, in fact, extraordinarily real, she sat upright, fumbling in the dark to get to her feet while calling out for Mysty to come in (she was almost certain that it was Mysty, for none of the other cultists she had met – admittedly, this total consisted solely of Zancrow and Azuma, neither of whom she wished to meet again in a hurry – would have the courtesy to knock.)

The door was opened and a piece of black fabric tossed at her that she only just managed to catch. She looked to Mysty questioningly.

"It's a cloak. Probably not a perfect fit, but you'll need it – everyone here has one, and it'll do a good job of hiding your identity."

She nodded, and he helped her put it on. To say it wasn't a perfect fit was an understatement, for it was far too large, but Wendy was at least grateful for the anonymity it gave her. Once ready, hood down and knife in hand, he took her wrist and lead her out of the room (she was finally leaving that accursed prison!) and into a corridor. Like the room and what she had seen of the gardens, it had an air of opulence and having once been lavish, but was now poorly tended and shabby.

Before they could go further, she stopped on her tracks, forcing him to halt.

"Thank you for the help, Mr Mysty, but why are you doing this?"

He seemed to consider both the validity of the question and if it was worthy of an answer before he looked her straight in the eye. "I'm not about to let a young girl die for no reason."

Mysty made a move to leave again but Wendy tugged her hand back, forcing him to turn to look at her again. "What's the plan here?"

He indicated that they should get moving, but kept talking as they went, albeit in a hushed tone. "I'm going to lead you out, so keep as inconspicuous as possible and follow me. We may have to adjust our route to avoid certain people, but I've spent long enough getting acquainted with this building to know where to go. If the worst comes to worst, I'll tell you to run- in which case, do so until you're somewhere quiet. You're a bright girl, so from thereon you'll have to find your own way. Don't go back for me if this happens: focus on getting out of these grounds."

"And then?"

"There's a village to the east. Follow the road until you get there. If I can, I'll meet you there but if not, find a way to get home."

Wendy took a moment to ponder this before speaking again. "And the knife?"

"Don't try to get in a full-blown fight. That dagger is a last resort. If you have to use it, just stab, twist so the wound won't close and run."

She nodded. "You've thought this through very thoroughly, Mr Mysty."

"I had to, Princess. There's an awful lot of people here and the majority of them want you dead. Also," he turned his head to smile at her. "Just call me Mystogan."

"In which case," Wendy replied, managing a small smile of her own in response, "call me Wendy, Mr Mystogan."

"As you wish, Princess Wendy."

* * *

><p>Meredy paused to catch her breath before leaning over and peering around the corner. Certain that the corridor was vacant, she turned the corner and sprinted to the next bend to repeat the process. This had been her technique for the evasion of conflict and, in that respect, it worked- the only flaw was that it was painfully slow. She would never catch up to Ultear at this rate.<p>

Perhaps such caution was unnecessary- despite its relative affluence, Grimoire Heart wasn't an especially large group, mainly consisting of the seven kin of purgatory, its master and a handful or so of other members, with a few minors dotted here and there. It wasn't as though the building was swarming with hostiles, nor would Meredy be incapable of dealing with said enemies. It was just that she wanted to attract as little attention as possible.

She wasn't particularly well educated, but Meredy knew basic mathematics: Ultear and her brothers plus Meredy, the princess and Lisanna equalled a total of six allies within the building. The seven kin of purgatory wasn't really seven, since Meredy and Ultear were out of that count; however, the Seven Kin plus Bluenote and Hades added up to seven hostiles, eight if you included Mystogan, the core group's newest member. Nobody else would be much trouble.

Meredy also had one scrap of evidence to go by in order to help her, and that was a snippet of one of her conversations with Ultear.

"_There are two ways to bring a hierarchy down- take out the base, because then the rest will crumble; or take out the top, and leave the rest with no leader. People are nothing without a leader, so they are a good tar- Meredy, are you even listening?"_

Therefore, Meredy could deduct that Ultear was going for the second option: that is, she was going straight for Master Hades. The young girl had to admit, that man terrified her (as did Bluenote, his second-in-command). Therefore, she planned in intercepting Ultear before she reached the master.

Run. Stop. Check. Run.

To Meredy, this technique had seemed perfect, albeit a bit too slow paced for her liking. What she did not realize and that she would come to regret was this:

She never looked back.

And so, when a hand was roughly shoved over her mouth, she could only blame herself and her lack of caution.

"What a surprise, it's the little traitor."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Okay, I really need to apologize for taking so long with this chapter. I did, in fact, finish this a good few months ago before my computer's hard drive corrupted and I lost both the chapter and my motivation to write. Thanks to support from a good many people, I've managed to get myself going again and I hope to not have to ever keep you waiting any longer than this. Also take note that, due to my beta having a social life, this chapter is unbetad.<strong>


	16. The Screamer

**AN: Hello, the author here!**

**I've noticed that this story has gained a lot of new followers recently, which is great! However, I'm going to apologise in advance because (as you'll know if you've read any of my previous author's notes) I am the absolute worst when it comes to updating. However, I've got a wave of new inspiration and love for this story as of late so I'm hoping that I'll get more motivation to write, although I'm making no promises. Nevertheless, can you please bear with me and my sluggish writing? I really appreciate you guys liking my work and I know this is a lot to ask, but please be patient when it comes to updates.**

**Also, as a final note, a huge thank you goes to Wednesdaysnow (or honeyteacake on tumblr) for her lovely fanart which is now the story cover!**

**PS: My beta reader is currently having a lovely time in Portugal, so this chapter is in its raw and impure version. Therefore, I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes.**

* * *

><p><strong>The Screamer<strong>

A scream rang out.

Lucy flinched, taking a step closer to Lisanna who placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, other hand reaching for her crossbow. The two stood frozen for a second before realizing that the sound had not come from nearby.

The princess hadn't even been aware that she was holding her breath until she needed to exhale. Quick mind working at an increased rate, she grabbed Lisanna's hand from her shoulder and turned to face her.

"We're going after that."

Lisanna frowned. "Are you sure it was Wendy?"

The blonde shrugged. "I don't know, but we're helping them either way."

Her friend was still doubtful. "I'm not sure if that's safe…"

"Lisanna, what is there about being in a mansion filled with murderous cultists that is safe?"

Despite their situation, the girl managed a slight smile at the princess' comment. "Fine, we're helping."

Lucy nodded firmly, grabbing Lisanna's wrist and leading her towards the direction that the sound had come from (although it had now ceased). It struck her then that this was precisely the reason she admired the princess, even though Lisanna was by far superior in combat. Lucy's heart was generous and seemingly unlimited in its capacity to care for others, a rarity for one whom had received luxury all her life. Once again, she questioned whether or not bringing someone so delicate was really a good idea.

There was one major drawback to wearing those hoods- their peripheral vision was all but completely cut off. They couldn't tell that anyone was approaching until they heard their footsteps, by which point it was too late to retreat. Lisanna instinctively took over, yanking Lucy's hand so that the princess was behind her and holding out an arm as a barrier, putting herself between the princess and the approaching figure.

Much to her surprise, Lucy placed a hand on her arm and lowered it, quickly leaning over to whisper in her ear.

"Act casual- we don't want a fight. Follow me."

Lisanna blinked in surprise at the princess taking charge (for such action rarely came from Lucy, who was usually content to sit back and let the more experienced one of the pair manage), hand still twitching to retrieve her crossbow, but nodded. Lucy took a deep breath, straightening her posture, and held her head high as she very calmly walked down the corridor towards the approaching figure.

They too were swathed in black-, and as such they could not identify them from a distance. Judging by the fairly solid bulk and broad shoulders, Lisanna presumed they were male. Whether or not they were a threat- well, everyone was a threat here, weren't they?

Lucy's posture was unflinching as they came closer and closer; she kept her gaze straight ahead and, if she was indeed as scared as she should have been, her physicality did not at all show this.

They passed each other, the princess and the mystery man, so close that their cloaks brushed each other. He turned fully at this, but she only offered a slight glance before continuing, head down lower than before. He simply shook his head before carrying on.

Walking, Lisanna passed him, not even offering a momentary glimpse in his direction but briskly making her way, eager to put as much distance between them as possible. That corridor was painfully silent, especially due to the floor which (Lisanna was sure) must have amplified all footsteps to such an incredible volume that they made everything else seem deathly quiet in comparison.

The pair finally rounded a corner. Lisanna sighed with relief for she was certain that plan had been far more reckless than her own. She glanced at Lucy with an eyebrow raised only to find that her friend wasn't paying attention. The blonde seemed to be engulfed in her own thoughts, a slight frown on her face as she pondered.

Before Lisanna could even make a sound, she did what no sane woman would do- she ripped down her hood and ran back.

Due to this action being so unexpected, Lisanna didn't do the smart thing; rather than drawing her weapon to defend the princess she simply ran after her, turning the corner just in time to see Lucy take a rather impressive blow to the stomach. The girl doubled over, coughing and spluttering before looking up.

The man had frozen. Rather than doing anything in particular he simply stared at the young lady in front of him.

Lucy's cocoa eyes stared him down. "Capricorn, what are you doing in a place like this?"

* * *

><p>A scream rang out.<p>

Ultear listened with mild curiosity. It wasn't the ritual- that wasn't being done until later. So it was probably just a servant or something (though she didn't recall Grimoire Heart having any). She decided that it was none of her business. She had her own matters to attend to. Hey, maybe Kain hadn't followed her advice and the scream was his (in which case, good riddance).

She shrugged and kept on walking.

* * *

><p>A scream rang out.<p>

Juvia instinctively grabbed Natsu's sleeve and pulled him into the shadows, clamping a hand over his mouth to stifle the protest that she knew he'd make. After a few seconds of silence established that there was no imminent danger, he roughly shoved her away.

There was a very odd thing about Natsu- when the situation called for it, he was capable of transforming from a naïve and innocent boy to a driven and determined man. It was something that Juvia had seen hints of early on in her employment, but had only fully become apparent as of late; Erza had already recounted to her how Natsu had saved her life during the Clover festival.

Juvia was not a leader – she was independent enough to make her own decisions, but she wasn't one to take charge. Erza was a leader, seasoned and respected. Natsu sat somewhere in the middle as one who definitely had the potential to lead, yet lacked experience of doing so. But at this moment he turned to her, eyes afire.

"Juvia, you go after that."

She frowned. "But if it's Wendy, surely-?"

He shook his head. "Trust me, that wasn't Wendy. I'd know if it was."

"In which case-"

"I can't just ignore that scream. But Wendy's my sister, and I can't abandon her."

Juvia weighed out the pros and cons. She was his _bodyguard_, so therefore abandoning him in this perilous situation would be absurd. Yet at the same time she was _his _bodyguard, so therefore not following his orders would be absurd. Not to mention the clear emotion and brotherly dedication in his intentions which succeeded in swaying her to his side despite the fact that such unsubstantial reasons were ones she would have never taken into account a few months ago.

"Fine. Juvia trained you herself, so she trusts you not to die." She awkwardly placed a hand on his shoulder before quickly retracting it. "Show Juvia that her trust has not been misplaced."

And with that she was gone, swooping around the corner faster than she had ever been when burdened with him.

Natsu took a moment to adjust to this new found state of being alone. Juvia wasn't exactly loud-mouthed, but when she left a complete and utter silence and, above all, a feeling of 'what next?' came to him. Was there any logical way of searching for Wendy, or would it be a wild goose chase? Dammit, he wished he was smarter.

* * *

><p>A scream rang out.<p>

Gray stopped on his tracks, taking a moment to approximate its source before setting off towards it at full speed. It didn't quite sound like his half-sister, he admitted, but that didn't eliminate the possibility entirely. Besides, he had too much of a conscience to ignore it. So screw subtlety, he was getting there as fast as he could.

Ultear would probably mince him for this. But she wasn't there and she didn't have to know.

* * *

><p>A scream rang out.<p>

Lyon halted, trying to pinpoint where it came from. Damn, he recognised nobody's voice ever. Maybe it was due to his relative isolation from his distant family (what did Wendy count as, his half stepsister? His quarter sister?), but every young girly scream sounded the same. That begged the question of whether or not he should follow it or if that would mean running directly into the chaos; on the other hand, he could just quickly find Ultear and get out with her (and maybe his royal assholeness) to avoid any other major losses.

The ivory haired man was so caught up in his thoughts that, when he finally resolved to let morals overpower tactics, he moved forward only to be yanked back by a surprisingly slender arm.

"You and your family are so ignorant, entering the heart of the beast."

Lyon gritted his teeth; whoever this person was, they had their arm around his neck and, as they had struck him by surprise (how the hell was this guy so silent in his approach when the floor was the loudest thing on earth?) he was completely unprepared.

Time for some improvisation. Placing a hand on his sheathed sword, he angled slightly sideways before unsheathing it in one quick motion, jabbing his captor in the stomach with the pommel and allowing him the chance to break free and gain elbow room enough to fully draw his sword.

His opponent was a young man in purple with one of the most ridiculous hairstyles Lyon had ever seen. Goodness gracious, why did he always fight the jokes? Even owl guy had been more intimidating.

The man regained his composure, looking up with a glare. "Quite the pragmatist, aren't we?"

"What the fuck is up with your hair?" Lyon demanded. Oh god, he couldn't take this guy seriously. It was completely impossible.

"It's a pompadour, you uncultured swine."

Lyon groaned. "Just shut up, you sound like even more of a prick than you look."

And to his credit, the guy did- instead he lunged forward, knife in hand. Lyon parried the blow easily, only for his opponent to nimbly twist to the side and strike a blow that would have landed right in Lyon's shoulder had he not turned and blocked the blade with the flat of his palm. It dug deep, but he had sustained worse injuries in the past.

"What's your name?"

"Rustyrose, at your service."

"Ha." Was all Lyon said before he gripped the blade's handle and yanked it out of his grip. "I know a knife fighter at least twice as good as you. You're nothing but an asshole dressed like a violet."

* * *

><p>Lisanna didn't take a single step. The tension in the air was so high, it felt as though one move wrong would doom them all.<p>

She finally breathed again when the man kneeled down.

Lucy folded her arms, frowning in confusion. "Now isn't the time for formalities, Capricorn. Answer my question."

"My princess-"

"-Lucy."

He cleared his throat. "Lucy, that is an extremely private matter."

The blonde nodded, turning it over in her mind. "Capricorn, have your fighting skills diminished in any way within the last seven or so years?"

"Not at all."

"Good. Any idea where Wendy is?"

"Exactly."

Lucy offered a hand to help him up, which he declined. Once this exchange was over, she seemed to finally notice Lisanna's presence again. "In which case: Lisanna, you go and find the girl who screamed. Capricorn will lead me to Wendy."

The snowy haired girl prepared to explain the insanely high number of things that could go wrong with this before she was cut off. "Capricorn was once captain of the Celestial kingdom's royal guard. I trust him and he is capable of caring for me." She offered a smile. "Besides, you'll do better without a squishy, practically defenceless me by your side."

Lisanna giggled, making to pass them before stopping and clapping a hand on Capricorn's broad shoulder. "If she gets hurt, I'll tear you apart using only my bare hands." She then flashed a flawless smile before quickening her pace and heading in the vague direction of the scream

Lucy turned to the bemused Capricorn, a grin on her face. "Trust me, she's capable. Now, about Wendy-"

He offered her his arm, but she declined and opted to walk beside him. "I don't suppose you've got an explanation for your disappearance."

There was no reply for a long time. Lucy turned to see if her escort was okay, only to find him completely fine as he stared ahead, a grave expression upon his face. This was an impressive feat; Capricorn's features were already incredibly serious. Lucy had called him Sir Goat during her childhood, because his face had many elements that reminded her of a goat, and he was obstinate just like the goats in one of the stories her mother would read to her in bed at night. She had found it a delightful coincidence when a book told her that Capricorn did, in fact, mean 'goat'.

This was because Capricorn was of the Zodiac family, a household within the Celestial kingdom that held no real substantial power itself, but had throughout history served whichever royal family held the throne with unwavering loyalty. It was tradition, and the Zodiacs were a family filled with traditions – from naming its members after astrological symbols to its bizarre habit of adopting far more children into the family than were ever born into it. Even Layla had not known all of their intricacies, but Lucy had held fascination with them regardless.

(As a little interesting note that popped into Lucy's head at that time, she had heard rumours about Loke also being from this family, although due to his lack of an astrological name and refusal to use his surname there was no confirmation. Lucy decided that now would not be the best time to ask Capricorn.)

To see Capricorn's heavy set and determined features even more deadly serious was unsettling, particularly due to the childhood memories it stirred. However, Lucy wanted answers, so she asked again.

He stared at the ground before shaking his head. "No reason that I could tell without shame, Princess."

"Lucy. And tell me anyway."

There was no humour in his voice. "You're so much like your mother. Not just in appearance. She was stubborn too."

The princess frowned, partly because she wasn't getting a direct answer and partly because she didn't want a conversation about her mother just yet, not so soon after finding Capricorn. She wanted her answers now because the moment they started talking about the late queen she knew she would talk about nothing else.

"Don't avoid the question, Capricorn."

He turned to look at her, his stony gaze unsettling. Still the same face, but something had changed over the years. How had Grimoire Heart changed him?

"I am not, Lucy. Your mother was the reason."

* * *

><p>A scream rang out.<p>

Erza braced herself, instinctively taking a defensive position. The scream was short lived, and had been cut short. She had no way of determining whether or not it was Wendy, but whoever it was needed help, fast.

The red haired knight had a good heart, no doubt about it, but she wasn't absurdly reckless or impulsive. She still lacked one of the cult's token hooded cloaks, and running towards danger with her identity completely exposed would only get her into unnecessary conflict, causing delay and making her rescue a failure.

And so, as much as her every instinct screamed at her to race off in the direction of the screamer, she forced herself to remain rooted to her spot and focus on finding that all-important hooded cloak.

Being frozen on one point, however, was neither a strategic move nor a productive one. And Erza had to pay for those nonstrategic several seconds, because when she turned to survey the corridor she saw a figure - two figures, in fact. Judging by the fact that they were standing still, they had noticed her. Unfortunately, due to the fact that she had decided to stick to areas with no light but that of the moon, they were too shadowy for her to make out any finer details, although she could tell some of the basics: one was taller than the other, neither were too muscular and they appeared to have no injuries.

Perhaps most importantly, they were wearing hooded cloaks, and Erza decided that the life of a cold blooded, lawless murderer was a small price to pay for the life of an innocent child. Drawing her sword, she took off running, not caring about the clanking sound her boots against the marble. She barely registered the smaller figure running off around a corner as she slammed into the taller one, using her body weight and gathered momentum to provide enough force for her to use her free hand to shove them to the floor. Once down, she pinned their shoulders down with her knees, rendering them defenceless, and was about to use their sword to threaten them into giving her their cloak (because, lawless murder aside, she didn't want to have to kill someone who had done nothing to attack her unless strictly necessary) when she froze.

Her actions had causing their hood, which had previously hidden their face, to fall back. Although moonlight wasn't exactly ideal in terms of visibility, she could make our their features well enough for her breath to catch in her throat. Restraining herself from gasping, she lay down her sword and all but tore her gauntlet off.

With a shaking hand, she reached forwards, allowing the skin of her trembling fingers to lightly brush against the skin of their face. Contact. This person's face was substantial. As if this brief contact wasn't enough, she pressed her fingers more firmly against their cheek to prove that she wasn't fooling herself. This wasn't a ghost.

Erza tried to speak, but her first attempt made no sound whatsoever. The second time, her words got caught in her throat. So she decided to keep it simple the third time round.

"Jellal?"


	17. Friend or Foe

**Friend or Foe**

He stared back at her with those deep eyes that she had always found herself unable to name a colour for. They were black and they were green and they were brown and hazel and she just couldn't pinpoint a word to describe them but they meant so much to her right now because they were undeniably his, just like his sapphire hair and his tattoo and his bemused expression. Erza almost regretted convincing herself that he was dead because now this whirlwind of joy and relief was blowing her away. _Her_, Erza the Titania. She continued to caress his face, revelling in its tangibility and how it proved her wildest dreams to be true, forgetting about their dire situation and the fact that she had just threatened to kill him.

"Who are you?"

If there was ever a worse blow he could have dealt, it was beyond her imagination. He may as well have punched her in the gut, or plunged her own sword into her throat and made her choke on cold steel. Instead she choked back a squeak of disbelief. "Jellal?" She asked again, standing up and stepping away, breaking contact and giving him space to move.

He began to get up, hand flying to the hilt of the weapon at his side and making Erza consciously aware of the fact that she had left her sword on the floor. "I won't ask again: who are you and what are you doing here?"

Erza stared into those indescribable eyes, hoping to ignite a spark of remembrance. Yet they remained guarded and cold, unreceptive to her attempts. She tried one last time. "Jellal, it's me. Erza. Remember me?"

"I don't know who this Jellal is, but I know you're not in Grimoire Heart. So I ask again: what are you doing here?"

The knight took a deep breath. He was right, she had a reason to be here and this tidal wave of emotion could not hinder her progress. Yet Jellal was one of a kind – his hair, his eyes, his tattoo – and to say that the man in front of her was not Jellal Fernandes was akin to saying that there was no such thing as the sun and that all light was an illusion. She raised her hands in the air and took a step forward, answering honestly. "I'm here to rescue the princess. And your name is?"

He studied her face, nodded and bent down to pick up her sword, causing her heart to jump. Now she was defenceless and she didn't know whether he was friend or foe (but he was Jellal so he couldn't possibly be a foe. He _was _Jellal so he was a friend.)

Fortunately for Erza, he held out the sword for her to take. "Call me Mystogan. And I'm afraid you just scared away the princess, although she can't have gone too-"

Luckily, Erza's emotional turmoil had not culled her survival instincts; when she heard approaching footsteps that were far too heavy to be Wendy's light tap, she roughly shoved a hand over Jellal/Mystogan's mouth and pulled him around the corner (causing him to drop her blade with a loud clatter) before releasing him, indicating for silence. He too paused.

She strained to hear any sound over the pounding in her head, which only worsened when it occurred to her that not only was she unarmed, but her gauntlet and sword were still on the floor in the corridor. There was no chance of a subtle escape –she'd already left a mark and her boots were far too heavy to move soundlessly- yet she had no way of fighting.

Damn, look what this man could do to her.

Erza pulled him closer to whisper into his ear as quietly as possible. "Jellal, can you still fight?"

He shot her a look of annoyance. "I don't know about Jellal but yes, I can fight."

"Good. I'm Erza Scarlet and we're going to have to co-operate."

* * *

><p>Wendy ran. She ran until she tripped over the end of her oversized cloak and landed on the ground with a thump. The marble knocked the breath out of her as well as scrambling her thoughts, and despite how vulnerable she was in that moment she made no move to get up.<p>

_If the worst comes to worst, I'll tell you to run- in which case, do so until you're somewhere quiet._

How was she supposed to trust this advice? It had all seemed fine in theory, but now that she was sprawled on the floor in hostile territory she had half a mind to just crawl back to her room and pretend she had never left.

Wendy's breathing was shallow and infrequent, deeper breaths making her splutter. She felt like throwing up, despite the fact that the acute hollowness she felt indicated that she had nothing to vomit. She pressed her forehead to the cool, scuffed marble, marvelling at the cooling sensation it brought to her sweat soaked skin.

He had told her to find somewhere quiet, but her head was thumping. How long had it been since she'd had anything to drink?

After a few minutes, she shakily got to her feet, a wave of dizziness temporarily unsettling her. She was dimly aware of a throbbing pain in her elbow where she and the floor had made impact. Scuttling over to the wall, Wendy went to lean against it only for some protruding object to poke her in the back. Twisting round, she saw that it was a door handle, and she cautiously turned it and peered inside.

It appeared to be a storage cupboard, although in this case the word 'storage' seemed to have been confused with 'dumping'. The room mainly consisted of books, stacks upon stacks of them so high she thought they would topple. Some were mint condition, others worn and ragged, some just sheaths of paper. Among these piles there were a handful of ornaments and some furniture. Judging by the thick layer of dust on the surfaces and in the air, Wendy could assume that it was disused.

Well, at least it was somewhere quiet. Scurrying inside, Wendy closed the door and sank to the ground to think on her next course of action.

One option would be to directly disobey the orders given to her by Mysty by going back for him. The exact circumstances of what had happened were a blur; she recalled thumping, a wild flash of blood red, Mystogan pushing her away and telling her to run, the scrape of a sword being unsheathed. She didn't even know if he was still alive. Her orders were to not go back for him, and whatever that thing that had attacked them was, Wendy wasn't keen to meet them.

Her other choice was to sit here until she was discovered. Not ideal.

Which left her with only one choice- go ahead, do what she was told. The prospect seemed daunting to the girl who had never truly been alone and free in her life, with the exception of the time of her kidnap. And even then, she had known her surroundings.

Wendy cursed her own weakness. What was sitting in a closet going to do for her? Had Dame Erza Scarlet won her most glorious battles by hiding? Even Charle would have more guts in this situation than her, this useless spineless princess.

Charle… she wished she had her cat here. She wanted to see her cat again.

Swallowing her nausea, Wendy crawled over to the books. They ranged to fairly normal tones to the occult. She accidentally sent some of the papers scattering. Wendy decided that she wasn't going to cower here forever; she just needed to learn more about her situation beforehand.

Knife forever within arm's reach, the princess began to investigate.

* * *

><p>"Capricorn, I do wish you would stop being so indirect. I've not got the time. How was mama the reason?"<p>

He was avoiding her gaze, and somehow that made her fume. He was treating her like a child. How absurdly mistaken he was! Lucy was in her eighteenth year of life, well-proportioned, educated and due to be married in no later than two years' time. Yet in her, it seemed that Capricorn only saw her younger self. And it was her miserable younger self, the one who seemed incapable of smiling. The thought of such patronising treatment made her bristle with anger.

"Answer me, Capricorn! I deserve to know!"

"That sort of attitude is not becoming of a young lady, Lucy." He said in a steel voice, causing Lucy to instantly become ashamed of her outburst.

She coughed awkwardly. "I apologise for my lack of manners. However, I still wish to know."

"As you wish, Princess. I am sure you know the circumstances of your mother's death. The true circumstance."

Lucy nodded. "By the true circumstance, I assume you're referring to the version of events that we didn't release to the public."

"Exactly." Capricorn paused to cough. "As you know, the public were told-"

"-That Mama was overcome with a sudden fever that claimed her in the morning following my coming of age ceremony. She praised the Heartfilia dynasty with her dying breath." Lucy murmured in a monotone voice. If she didn't put in any expression, it wasn't quite so much of a blow. She could make it sound like a line in a book that had been read to the death.

Her companion sighed. "Indeed. A perfect death for a perfect queen."

"But it wasn't." She deadpanned, looking straight ahead. "You don't even know what her last words were. She was dead by sunrise, and that's how you found her. She hadn't even put on her nightgown."

Capricorn hung his head for a second. "And, as Captain of the Guard, it was my fault. We never saw it coming."

_Neither did she._

"And to further add to the problem, we had no way whatsoever of finding the culprit. They had left behind no trace. I had failed the queen and brought disgrace to my family. My incompetence was what killed her. I was her murderer."

_So you fled. You ran away._

"Continue, please. That doesn't explain how you got here."

"Well," the man explained, "I couldn't stay. I did not really know what to do, but I could not stay. I further shamed myself and my family by disappearing. So I came across the border to Fiore. For some time I lived from drink to drink, taking on the most menial of labours to fund my own misery.

And then I heard of Grimoire Heart. It was Hades himself who recruited me. Told me that he knew who I was and he could give me the chance to become someone new. He convinced me of what we could do with Acnologia's power- fairy tales, all of them. But desperate men believe anything, and I believed that this dragon mage could bring back my dead queen. For a few years, everything went well. I suggested we hire an assassin to kill Zoldeo. It had a messier outcome than anticipated, but it worked.

But when I heard of this plan… when I heard Wendy, I remembered you. And that's when my doubts about Grimoire Heart were confirmed. There are no messiahs in this building, only the deranged."

He turned to face her. "You look like Layla. I think you're the closest she's ever going to be to alive."

Lucy's face betrayed nothing, but the wetness shining in her eyes was enough of an indicator. When she spoke, her voice was quiet. "You're wrong."

His heavy brow furrowed as he stopped, and Lucy carried on for a few steps before halting to stare at him. Even now, as a grown woman she seemed strangely small, or maybe it just seemed like her surroundings dwarfed her.

"Pardon?"

"You said that your incompetence killed her. That you were her murderer."

He sighed, a weary sigh as his shoulders shrugged. The old captain of the guard would have never had such slumped posture. He had been the pinnacle of professionalism. "Yes. And I take back none of it."

"But you're wrong." Her voice cracked, and Lucy had to take a moment to pull it back together, although the attempt was mostly unsuccessful. "It was me. I-"

"Oh, just shut up for crying out loud!"

Lucy froze, both at the voice and the expression of dread which had suddenly overcome Capricorn's features. She would have stepped closer to him had another figure not come swerving around the corner.

If there was ever any preconceived image of a psychopathic cultist that had crossed Lucy's mind, this man fitted it almost to a T. Muscular, wild and absolutely terrifying. He rolled his eyes dramatically.

"That conversation was so interesting, until the two of you started talking about guilt and fault and blahdiblah. Why do you aristocrats always moan about bullshit? Who cares how the damn queen died- it's not bringing her back to life!"

Capricorn bristled with anger, and Lucy faintly heard him cursing under his breath, alongside muttering something about crows. Maybe she would have heard him better had a blind rage not consumed her and lead her to do an action so irrational she had thought herself incapable of it.

She attempted to punch this stranger in the face.

It was laughable, in retrospect. Lucy had never thrown a proper punch in her life, and even if she had succeeded the result would have been of minimal value. He caught her right wrist, utterly unfazed, and held it in an iron grip. Then he spent a second or so studying her face before laughing, tightening his grip and causing her to hiss at the pain.

"Capricorn! I didn't know we'd be sacrificing two princesses tonight. Although even the snivelling brat is smarter than this one. And it's the wrong bloodline… eh, we can put her to good use." His laugh reminded her of a hyena's. However, the white-hot shock of pain that shot up her arm when he roughly jerked his hand, resulting in an audible _snap _in her wrist eclipsed all other thought. Lucy gasped, feeling her knees grow weak as his grip became tighter and tighter, only further increasing the agony.

And then in an instant she was released as her enemy flung himself backwards to avoid a sword blow. The dim light glimmered off the blade, bringing out the subtle engravings along the steel. It was good metal, forged excellently, with distinctive decoration that she could recall from her childhood. Lucy stumbled back a few steps, managing to keep her balance. The pain in her wrist reduced slightly to an aggravating throb.

Capricorn hissed to see that his blow had missed, but nonetheless seemed pleased that Lucy was free. "Run, Princess."

"But-"

"Keep on going down the corridor, take the first left and go straight until the third right, go up a flight of stairs and take the second left. Her room has a painting of flowers outside of it."

Lucy swallowed, eyes darting to see the blond stranger unsheathing an axe, and began to move away. "When this is all over, I'll see to it that you return to your former position, and if not I'll make you captain of my personal guard. I swear it."

He nodded with a hint of a smile lightening his grim features, and she picked up her skirts as best she could with one hand and broke into a run. Turning, it struck her how different Capricorn looked now. She had been angry that he could only see the girl from seven years ago, but looking back she realised that perhaps she too had been stuck in the past. Now it was clear that the years had taken their toll on the former guard captain. She could see the streaks of grey in his hair, the unhealthy pallor of his skin and his muscles that were nothing in comparison to the bulk he had once boasted.

Still, he had skill and expertly parried a forceful blow. But his opponent's strength was superior, as a man in his youth, and the power of his axe thrust caused the elder man to stumble. Surprisingly fast for his girth, the blonde lunged forward. His slice would have gone straight through Capricorn's throat had he not just about stepped out of the way, although it tore through his upper sword arm, scattering a spray of scarlet into the air.

Lucy bit her lip and tried not to think of all the veins, arteries and muscle tissue that had just been ravaged as she took the first left, unable to tend to her broken wrist which hung limp and useless. And although she knew it was hopeless, she silently prayed for Capricorn's safety.

* * *

><p>Okay, despite how cool and badass it had looked, grabbing his opponent's dagger and yanking it out of his hand was probably not the best of ideas. Lyon had a deep cut in his palm that was now slippery with blood, plus a dagger that he A. did not know how to properly use in battle and B. had nowhere to dispose of it. Reprimanding himself for not thinking before acting, he hastily stuffed it in his belt (it would probably make a bloody mess of the flesh around his hip and restrict his movement, but at least it wasn't in Rustyrose's hand, or in his throat for that matter).<p>

Unfortunately, just when it seemed that Lyon had been gaining the upper hand, he let his opponent see his small panic. Rustyrose smiled nonchalantly as though he had not just been partially disarmed. "You're not much of a thinker, are you?"

_He's doing it on purpose_, a small voice in the back of Lyon's head whispered. _He's trying to get you angry, you're stupid when you're angry. _Yet this voice was far too small to drown out the indignation that dominated his thoughts, causing Lyon to grit his teeth and lunge, swinging his sword forcefully in an attempt to take out Rustyrose's throat. His opponent simply smiled and stepped back, completely unfazed, before darting forwards and aiming to stab at his abdomen. Lyon sidestepped and slammed into Rustyrose with all his weight, sending the slimmer man a few steps back.

"What's the point?" The elder man asked once he had regained his balance. "Don't think I don't know who you are."

"Oh really?" Lyon hissed, trying to disguise the fact that he was out of breath. "Go ahead."

"You've got her eyes. Ultear's brother, isn't it? The bastard one?"

_Bastard._ Now that was a word that could cut deep, almost as deep as Lyon's sword would have gone through Rustyrose's chest had Lyon not been so slow and predictable and Rustyrose not so quick.

"I don't blame you for being angry-" his opponent ducked a sword blow, quickly darting forward before turning to stab his back. "-I would too if I were you."

Lyon twisted to parry the thrust, although the action caused the knife in his belt to dig painfully deep into his upper right thigh. His rational self would have realised that he was getting nowhere. Then again, Ultear had always said that he was too emotional for his own good. Rustyrose interrupted him mid strike, his now injured thigh causing Lyon to falter, and he only just managed to shift enough for the knife to land a glancing blow on his shoulder.

"Your siblings treat you like a sword for hire. You're tolerated at court but not accepted. Women will bed you but never wed you. Your very existence is a stain on the Fullbuster-Milkovich name, which you are not even entitled to. Are you angry yet?"

He was, but he wasn't going to admit it outright. "You asshole!" Lyon cursed, abandoning all strategy as he charged forwards, swinging blindly and causing the knife to sink deeper into his thigh.

"Why won't you accept that you have no future?"

"BE QUIET!"

That third voice caused them both to freeze, and caused a silence so empty that the faint whistling sound which followed sounded painfully loud, as did the _thunk _when an arrow flew into Rustyrose's shoulder and the anguished wail upon impact.

Lyon moved fast, taking advantage of the moment to pin Rustyrose to the wall by the throat. The sound he made had been pitiful, almost as pitiful as Lyon getting angry so easily. The man opened his mouth to say something, but Lyon was having none of it, placing more force on his windpipe to choke his words.

There was an acute pain in his thigh, and Lyon realised that Rustyrose was applying pressure to the knife at his hip in a desperate last attempt. Like a caged animal, and Lyon was ashamed that this prick had played him so easily. Throwing his sword aside, he yanked the arrow out of his shoulder. This asshole could walk away. He wasn't worth it.

Face even paler, Rustyrose managed a smile. "You could have fitted within our ranks, bastard."

Lyon's hand moved faster than his mind, and soon the arrow ended up in the purple haired freak's throat.

"Was that really necessary?" The third voice asked as Lyon stepped away, letting the almost lifeless body sink to the floor. At this proximity, he realised that it sounded female, although not familiar. Turning, he saw a girl perhaps a year or so younger than himself. He didn't quite remember her name, but she had the telltale look of a Strauss and he identified her as the youngest.

"No, it wasn't."

He stepped forward then hissed in pain and dropped to the floor, angrily yanking out the dagger that was embedded in his thigh. She frowned, returning her crossbow to the strap at her waist and kneeling down to inspect the wound. "I won't say that he didn't deserve it, but maybe that anger was excessive."

"You didn't exactly sound calm."

"True. Your name?"

"Lyon."

She nodded as though that made everything clear. "Lisanna. Can you stand?"

He said that he could, then tried and was immediately proven wrong. Lyon gritted his teeth to prevent himself from grunting at the pain.

Lisanna watched him with cautious crystal blue eyes before throwing his arm around her shoulders and helping him up. "I'll get you out of here."

"N-no." He managed to protest through gritted teeth. "M-my sister-"

"-Can talk to me and I'll explain that you can't even walk with that leg. I'd bandage it here and now if I could, but here's probably not the safest place."

He pushed her away, using the wall to support himself. "You came here to save Wendy too, didn't you? Leave me here then."

She shook her head. "Look, I'm not happy about it either, but if Lucy were here she'd tell me to help you, or otherwise try to carry you out herself. So let me help, and once we're somewhere safe I'll bandage up your leg and we can talk."

Lyon looked at her warily. The Strauss family were renowned warriors, he knew that, but he'd also heard that the youngest was the weakest. He'd heard all the gossip at court, the pitying whispers. Poor Lisanna Strauss, the sickly youngest child. How tragic for her to lose her parents at a young age. How sad that she was too weak for the family traditions. She was even too weak to bear children, and as such the poor thing could never even marry. Oh, what an unfortunate girl, poor thing. Or at least that's what they'd say in passing, without a shred of genuine sadness.

Yet she didn't seem weak, and she didn't seem untrustworthy despite the fact that he had no idea as to how she had come to be there. Besides, Lyon's breeches were already bloodsoaked enough, and he wasn't keen on the thought of getting out of there by himself.

"Okay. I know a quick way out."

* * *

><p>Juvia rounded a corner to find herself at the top of a rather grand flight of stairs leading to what seemed to be a large hall, ballroom or atrium. Whatever it was, it was the first place within this mansion that was brightly lit, thanks to the huge (yet dusty and incomplete) chandelier in the centre. The light came as a shock to her eyes and she had to take a moment to adjust as another figure burst in.<p>

She heard a loud bang, and flung herself aside before throwing a knife at the figure. They too just managed to dodge, and her knife clattered off the wall and onto the floor. Turning her head, she saw a hole in the wall, small and bullet sized.

_Firearms. Ugh._

"Juvia thinks you should improve your aim." She called out, standing straight and making her way down the stairs.

The other person gasped audibly, and she almost did so as well when she came close enough to recognise them. But Gray composed himself quickly, looking away and stuffing the pistol back in his belt. "It was a warning shot."

"It was a waste of ammunition." She replied, averting her gaze so as to retain her stoic exterior as she retrieved her knife.

"And I suppose that was a warning knife?"

"No." Was all she said in reply.

She became aware that he was now looking straight at her, and forced herself to meet his gaze with a straight face. "How are you here?"

"Here? Natsu told Juvia to find the source of the scream."

"No, not here here. I mean here. You know, the big gloomy mansion in the middle of nowhere filled with nutters. And what was that about Natsu?"

"That is confidential." She stated, turning away. Gray grabbed her hand.

"It's to do with what you and Lyon were doing, isn't it?" His gaze was serious, and Juvia suddenly felt very ashamed, even more so than before. "He's my brother and you used him."

She tugged her hand away, averting her eyes towards the chandelier. "Juvia will not say that it was right, but it was necessary. Where do you think the scream came from?"

Juvia was changing the subject, that was obvious, but fortunately for her Gray acknowledged the necessity of the change. "Judging how we both ended up here, it has to be nearby. There are three corridors coming off from this room, and I came from that one-" he jerked his head to the left "-so it must have come from one of the other two."

"Four. There are the two at the top of the stairs."

He frowned. "So even if we split up-"

"-No. Juvia thinks that until we find the source it's best to stay together."

"I have pistols." He retorted.

"And you missed me."

"Warning shot."

"One bullet down-"

"Okay!" He hissed.

Juvia didn't blame him for the hostility; it was completely justified, although that wounded her even more. She took a moment to keep her emotions in check, just like she'd been trained to do. "Where do we sta-"

She shut up, crashing into him and sending the two tumbling down to hit the scuffed marble floor with a thump.

"What was that?" Gray demanded, feeling the back on his head throb in the place of impact. Crouched on top of him, Juvia pointed wordlessly to the wall, and he just managed to crane his neck enough to see the small dart embedded on the wall (needless to say, this completely cancelled out all thoughts of their close proximity).

Sitting upright, Juvia scanned their surroundings. "Show yourself."

"Or what?" The man who came out was tall, his sideburns giving more of a goofy animalistic look than a mature one, and the rest of his hair tied into a long ponytail, right down to his waist. He didn't look dangerous. If anything, he looked bizarre. "I said, or what? You've got skill, little girl, but your words don't have weight."

Juvia stood up, wordlessly dragging Gray to his feet. "Tell me your name."

"Demanding, aren't we? Bluenote Stinger, deputy commander of Grimoire Heart, at your service."

Gray opened his mouth to speak, but Juvia held out a hand to silence him. "Allow Juvia to handle this."

His chivalrous side compelled him to say no, she was a lady and this was not her duty. But he remembered that she was probably at least twice as competent as him, and courtesies didn't really apply to matters of life and death. However, Gray couldn't just sit meekly by, nor could he stand the thought of abandoning her and having no idea of her fate.

"We fight together." He stated decisively. She nodded, trying to hide the small smile that she could not stifle.

"Two against one? It doesn't seem fair, but it won't help you." Bluenote laughed, unsheathing a sword. Its design was foreign, possibly Eastern, and although its blade was lacking in solidness its edge was visibly sharp. "I wonder if you can fly?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hello, despicable author here. My real life is very busy so yes, updates are going to take forever. Thank you to everyone who is still following this story. In my rush to get this out in my free time, this chapter was unbeta-ed and barely edited, so I apologise in advance for mistakes.<strong>


	18. Bluff

**Bluff**

The room was empty, and Lucy didn't know how to feel. She'd run almost nonstop and her tight bodice was constricting her chest, meaning that her lungs were screaming for air that they could not get and she already felt somewhat lightheaded. So when she finally found the room with the flower painting outside and the door that opened without resistance, Lucy had hoped to find Wendy and get her to loosen her bodice slightly before they left, and to pause for a second to catch her breath.

But when she saw that it was unoccupied, Lucy's breath caught in her throat.

She leaned against the doorframe, chest heaving as she surveyed the room. It looked like a riot had broken out- to her it appeared that everything that could have possibly been smashed had been, and the rest was torn apart with no purpose besides pure rage. From what she could see there was no blood, which was a slight positive.

Lucy began to investigate more thoroughly, although barely any fruit was borne from the endeavour. She did find a small dress crumpled on the floor, torn and muddy but recognisable as Wendy's. Yet the only information she gained from this was proof that Wendy had been there, which Capricorn had already stated.

By now the pain in her wrist was more insistent on not being forgotten, sending out sharp shocks down her arm whenever it was aggravated in the slightest. Salvaging a strip of the shredded bed sheet, she clumsily utilised her teeth and usable hand to crudely bandage it. It didn't look too bad, all things considered, and the support made the pain less frequent.

She had been so engrossed in her work that she didn't hear the approaching footsteps until they were too near for her to hide. Remembering that she had forgotten to pull up her hood, Lucy clumsily fumbled with the fabric. It slipped through her fingers and she tried again, trembling in fear, frustration and anger at herself for being so stupid.

"It's fine, Lucy."

The princess hadn't been so grateful to hear a voice in years. She turned, beaming, forgetting that she was supposed to be hostile to its owner.

"Natsu!" She said, almost hugging him in her relief.

He smiled back despite himself, but frowned when a thought occurred to him. "Where's Lisanna?"

"Where's Juvia?" She shot back.

"I asked first."

Lucy rolled her eyes. "I sent her to go find the source of the screaming."

"Same. What's this?" He asked, indicating to the wrecked room.

The blonde bit her lip. "A… an associate of mine told me that this was supposed to be Wendy's room. I found her dress, but she must have left."

"Or been dragged out." He added. She could see a spark of anger in his eyes at the wreckage which fuelled his imagination, and quickly snuffed it out.

She shook her head. "No, it's more as though someone threw a tantrum here. Even the curtains have been shredded."

Natsu's brow furrowed in thought, anger forgotten in favour of analysis. He had never been an intellectual, but he looked to be trying his utmost best to play detective. "Wendy doesn't throw tantrums like that."

"I know that," Lucy said, going to investigate something that caught her eye, "So it's more likely that she got out on her own, and whoever found her missing had an angry outburst." She shuddered, remembering the blond she had left Capricorn to face. He looked just like the kind to do this, considering he snapped her wrist like a twig.

"So Wendy's safe?"

"Not safe, just not imprisoned." She replied, running her fingers around the laceration in the mattress before slipping them inside. It was too neat to be an angry tear, she thought. This was made with something precise and delicate, like a knife. Yet she didn't remember the blond man having one, and it seemed unlikely that someone had come along afterwards just to stab a mattress. So who did it? And why on earth would they? And why would Wendy leave by herself? She was a sweet girl, certainly a bright one, but sheltered and timid. Escaping by herself into a gloomy mansion filled with murderous intent in an unfamiliar place struck Lucy as being magnificently out of character. So what compelled her to leave? A change of heart? A helping hand? A means of self-defence?

She was thrust out of these thoughts by the bolt of pain that shot up her arm when Natsu decided to grab her bandaged wrist in order to get her attention. Lucy shrieked, withdrawing.

His green eyes filled with concern, stuttering, before he picked up her wrist more gently than she had expected him capable of. "What happened?"

"It's just a bit sore, that's all."

"Then why is it bandaged? It's not broken, is it?"

Silence.

"Oh my god, how did you break your wrist?"

"That's not important." She snapped, withdrawing, and continued before he could protest. "I think we should stick together and keep looking. She's probably not very far away from here." _And I'll feel safer with you _she thought and barely avoided adding onto the end. There was still that gaping chasm left from their argument three years before and, as touching as it was, concern over a broken wrist was insufficient to bridge the gap.

He studied her face with the same confused frown he'd had all of his life whenever something baffled him, but eventually relented. "Okay. But promise me you'll explain later."

"Promise. Now let's go." She reached up to try once again to lift her hood, but his hand beat hers there and Lucy could not stop herself from smiling. Because loving Natsu, that loveable doofus of a prince, was so much easier than hating him.

* * *

><p>Juvia was the first to move, so swift that Gray hadn't registered her leaving his side before he heard the clash of metal on metal, and the scraping sound as she swerved backwards, her knife leaving his sword. Her boots squeaked on the floor as she came to a stop. Bluenote hadn't moved besides parrying her attack, instead standing immobile.<p>

"Well? Are you going to try again?"

Perfect. Gray took aim in the moment of calm, and would have finished it there and then had Juvia not gone in for the kill again, ducking under Bluenote's blade to try and stab him in the back. Gray pulled the trigger in surprise, and for a brief moment thought he'd shot her. But Juvia must have managed to dodge by a hair's breadth as she was unscathed.

"Watch it!" He hissed. Gray's pistols only held about three bullets each, and he'd already fired two. But what was more important than that was that he'd very almost killed his ally by accident.

Juvia opened her mouth to reply before Bluenote twisted around, his blade slicing the flesh of Juvia's hand and only stopping when it came into contact with her knife's hilt. She threw herself back and rolled onto the floor before stabilising herself, leaving a smear of crimson on the marble. If she felt any pain, she didn't show it, nor did she seem to notice Gray anymore. This girl was something different.

He held up his pistol again, ready to aim at any opening. Juvia went at her own pace and it would be difficult to not hit her, but Gray was confident in his aiming skills – Ultear had insisted on him getting only the best of training – and only needed the opportunity. He'd have to be careful not to waste bullets though: he kept two pistols with him, both fully loaded, and this current one was down to his last bullet. He did have his pouch of powder and bullets with him, but reloading would be too risky in this situation. So Gray had to keep calm and use his last four shots well.

But Juvia and Bluenote were like a hurricane, never quite predictable. It was usually Juvia who struck first, so fast that it seemed impossible that she'd fail constantly to land a single hit. Bluenote, however, was mainly on the defensive and besides the one flesh wound he'd inflicted on her hand had made no progress. Juvia was resilient, a constant whirlwind of blades.

She struck then, throwing all of her weight into it. But Bluenote blocked it just the same. Before Juvia could lapse back into her pattern of stepping out of the way and trying again, he thrust his blade, much heavier and more powerful than her knives. The force sent Juvia stumbling back; as she had thrown all of her weight into the attack she'd sacrificed her balance, and now fell to the floor. Instinctively she dropped a knife and her hand went out to soften the impact- this was unfortunately her injured hand, and Gray winced at the wet splattering sound when it made contact with the ground.

Bluenote finally made an attack, and it was clear that the dazed and recovering Juvia would have no way to defend herself against the cold steel about to impale her throat. She seemed to register at the last second. It was too late to move then. Her hands flew to protect her neck.

_Bang_

The man swerved back at the last second, narrowly avoiding Gray's bullet. Both he and Juvia seemed to once again register the prince's presence, and Gray realized with a jolt that this pistol was now empty, making him a sitting duck for attacks.

Bluenote's blade came to meet him and he found out that an empty pistol wasn't so useless after all- twisting his hand, the metal of the barrel managed to block the steel sword, although barely. Still, it was enough of a delay for one of Juvia's knives to press itself against Bluenote's throat.

"Juvia thinks you should surrender."

The swordsman, however, laughed despite his vulnerable position. "Juvia is sorely mistaken. One thrust and her man is gone."

And Gray realised, with a jolt, that it was true. His pistol had been sufficient to block the initial swipe, but a simple change in the direction of force would lead to a stab in his heart. Still, Bluenote's attention didn't seem so much on him as on Juvia, with whom he was conversing as casually as anyone would a friend.

"So what guild are you from?"

Gray's hand reached towards his belt. His fingertips just grasped the metal of his second pistol.

"Juvia has no guild."

They wormed their way around into a grip. Gray took a deep breath and, before his actions could be noticed, slid the second pistol carefully out of its holster. He'd have to use his non dominant hand, but it would be better than nothing.

"So if I were to search your corpse, there'd be no guild mark?"

_Bang_

He wasn't aiming at anything or anyone in particular – doing so would be too dangerous because the chances of hitting Juvia were high – but the very sound of a gunshot was enough to scatter them in shock. The girl was fastest to recover and wasted no time in going in for the kill. Bluenote's reaction was more delayed, but he'd gathered his senses in time to block her attack. Juvia slid under his blade, knife slicing through the flesh of his thigh, and was upright in time to parry his strike.

She was making progress, but it was easy for Gray to tell that the battle had taken its toll on her: her grip on her right hand knife was less firm, for that was where she'd received the cut; her throat had red marks over it where she'd gone to defend herself; her legs were ever so slightly shaky. Bluenote, on the other hand, whilst worn down and sporting a new injury was in a better state. Gray himself was the best off of the three, but altogether the least deadly.

Hurriedly, the prince stuffed his empty pistol back in his belt and switched the loaded one to his left hand. He had two shots left and, considering the competency of their opponent, he'd have to use them well.

* * *

><p>"I'm here, Azuma."<p>

Erza kept her head down, letting her hair shield her face so she couldn't see who 'Azuma' was. Mystogan's (she had decided to cooperate with whatever name he wanted) arm was wrapped around her neck as he dragged her like a captive, not quite firm enough to choke her but good enough.

The voice which she presumed to be Azuma's came, and Erza made an effort to not turn and look at him. "What is Dame Scarlet doing here?"

Mystogan's arm stiffened. "I found her. She tried to attack me but I managed to disarm her. Now she's gone silent and is refusing to state her purpose, or whether or not there are others. How do you know who she is?" He was inching his way forward, gradually dragging Erza. She tried to be limp, her boots screeching against the floor.

"There's few women in this country with hair that shade, and only one who would ever wear armour. I know you're foreign, Mystogan, but you should make an effort to learn. That's what I did."

Erza frowned, glad that her crimson locks hid her face. Jellal wasn't foreign at all – Fiore born and bred. He could pass as a foreigner, she supposed, or maybe that was the tattoo.

"And who is she?"

"Dame Scarlet? The first Fiore woman outside of the Strauss family to be knighted. The first female soldier to be appointed the rank of general and above. Military advisor to the King. A very important woman, basically."

Mystogan gave a slight groan as he flung Erza to the floor. Her armour clattered and dazed her for a moment but she remained still, arm outstretched just a little bit too far away from her sword. She grunted, deliberating whether or not to try shuffling over- but her armour would scrape against the floor and make it too obvious. She willed for her arm to just grow longer, to reach her weapon so she didn't feel so powerless.

"But what is she doing here?" If Mystogan was bluffing, he was doing it well. He made a good actor.

"For the princess, why else? It's odd, I'll say. I can't imagine her finding out about us unless Ultear were to tell, and that woman is far too stubborn to talk to the likes of her."

Now that was a shock. Sure, Erza and Ultear weren't close, and Erza couldn't exactly say that she was fond of the former queen's daughter- she seemed too haughty and certain of her own importance. Igneel had put her in charge of most of the castle's affairs while he was preoccupied with his duties to the country, and she made sure that everything went her way. She was a cold woman, but Erza had never imagined her to be involved in such shady business.

"Interrogate her." Azuma's voice was deep and commanding.

Mystogan's foot came to the very edge of her armour, nudging timidly. He leaned down, grabbing Erza's hair and gently tugging her to face him. "How did you find out about us?"

She froze for a second. The knight had never been an actress, nor had she been in such a position. But she had to do something.

Erza spat in his face.

Mystogan straightened and rougly kicked her side, knocking her a few inches with a grunt. It had probably hurt his foot more than it did her, although it did wind her slightly. She coughed for dramatic effect, trying to work out why he had really thought that necessary. Had he turned against her? No, Jellal wouldn't do that. So why?

It only made sense when she realised that, if she stretched her arm a bit further, she could just reach her sword. But Erza had to wait for a chance, an opening, so she kept her silence, glancing up at Azuma from behind the curtain of her hair. He was large and bulky with the look of a foreigner about him – or perhaps he was just exceedingly tanned from time outside. It was hard to judge when the lighting was so dim. But whatever his nationality, he looked like a strong opponent. Not that Erza wasn't up to the challenge, although she had to keep in mind that her primary goal was not combat, but rescue.

"Do we lock her up?" Mystogan asked.

Azuma shook his head, wild hair bouncing from the movement. "I say we bring her to Hades. He could get something out of her… a shame, really. You say that she didn't put up much of a fight?"

"No."

Erza forced her mind, one in turmoil from the barrage of recent revelations, to focus. She'd strike soon. She would have to, because Mystogan could only buy time for so long.

"What a shame. It's been a while since I had any worthy opponents. I thought that the Dame Scarlet could be one."

It was the perfect opportunity to strike, both in poetic justice and the fact that his gaze was elsewhere. Her movements had to be quick – clinking armour would kill the chance of stealth – and so Erza took a beat to process her course of action before carrying it out. In one swift motion she moved to her feet, swiping her sword from the ground, and in the next she had sprung to her feet and went to deliver a blow to the side, one that would wound but not be fatal. However, Azuma was quick despite his gait and managed to step out of the way in time. But Erza's primary goal of rearming herself had been achieved, and with steel in hand she felt much more secure than before.

He regained his balance and glanced at the stoic Mystogan before laughing.

"A clever setup! How did you win him over? Hm?" More grinning, although it was not in a delirious manner- more like that of a child just presented with his favourite game. "So not just one worthy opponent, but two of you! Yes, I'm in for a challenge."

Erza gripped her sword, one ungloved hand feeling feather light in its exposure. She took a few steps back so as to have Mystogan within her peripheral vision, catching a glimpse of how he too had armed himself- with a halberd, by the looks of things. Interesting. Exactly the same kind of weapon that Jellal had a preference to.

But right now, Erza couldn't have Jellal on her mind. After all, she had a reputation to prove and a princess to save.

* * *

><p>She was tiring, Gray could tell. Juvia's methods of fighting had transformed; her once twisting and versatile steps accompanied by slashing had originally given the impression that she was aiming to fight and not to kill, or at the very least that she was trying to use evasive tactics to gradually wear Bluenote down and maybe take out a muscle or two while she was at it. Yet that had been at the start. Were Bluenote an ordinary opponent then he might have been down by now, but his skill and deftness with his blade were second to none. Now it was becoming clear that Juvia, whilst a capable fighter, was not up to the same level in open combat: her steps had retained their pace, but were more clumsy, less tactfully placed and her swipes not so targeted at specific weak point as at anything she could cut; and now, after Gray had lost count of how long the battle had gone on for, she was resorting to stabbing techniques more so than cutting- trying to put the fight to a quick end. It was clear that she had sufficient anatomical knowledge as she was aiming for weak points, such as under the armpit or below the ribs. Yet the challenge here was actually reaching said vulnerable spots. Bluenote didn't let his guard down, and often Juvia's strikes were more reckless attempts at finishing moves which resulted in receiving her own injuries. Fortunately her mobile style of battle meant that these rarely went beyond flesh wounds in terms of seriousness, but the fight was clearly taking its toll. This was most notable in her hand; the hilt of her knife was slippery and she was constantly using any spare moment to wipe it on her clothing, although it seemed to do little good and her hand was beginning to shake.<p>

Juvia was talented and deadly, but Bluenote was on a different level. Gray's two bullets were going to be very important. Yet he too was being faced with the unfortunate realisation that his skills and training were perhaps not all that impressive after all. The prince had been trained in the use of firearms, of course, especially his pistols. It was important, after all, for the heir to the throne to be able to defend himself in case all else failed. He knew basic fencing as well, but accuracy in shooting was his forte. The pistols had only limited ammunition and despite Gray being practised in doing so took time to reload, but time in training had shown his skill. He had shot targets aplenty from impressive distances, and after time managed to strike the bullseye. Except now Gray didn't feel highly trained and skilful at all. He felt useless, clumsy, his hand shakier than usual (perhaps from adrenaline, the rush of blood through his veins) and the target suddenly much more difficult to hit now that he was a mobile, breathing being.

Still, when a parry from Bluenote caused Juvia's knife to slip out of her blood sodden hand completely, he realised that he had to do something. And so he fired a shot which didn't hit, of course- but as with all of his shots it caused him to start and bought her a few seconds to relax in the knowledge that she was not the target. Juvia had time to wipe her hand and knife hilt on her skirt, hand jittery and uncertain. Yet she gripped her knife with notably greater firmness than before, and Gray had been of use. It was a relief to not just be a nuisance to her.

He was determined to use his last shot well; she was once again armed, but Juvia was simply too worn down from the fight to keep going for much longer. Most of her cuts were on her arms, although one or two had nicked the flesh of her thigh, or on her calf just above the point protected by her boots- too shallow to be debilitating, but also impossible to ignore. They would heal given time and not even scar, but in the heat of the moment they were just another problem, especially since Juvia's constant movement served to further aggravate the wounds. Trickles and smears of blood ran down her legs and it seemed to be only a matter of time before one cut went too deep and she was rendered defenceless thanks to one cruel twist of human anatomy.

At this rate she was fighting a losing battle, and so Gray decided that a change of pace was required. He selected a target, removing all else from his mind, blocking out the scrape of metal on metal that had accompanied the battle. There was a faint pulsing in the back of his mind, like a heartbeat amplified to extremes that he forced to go silent. Ready.

His target's area was a slim one, and he didn't want to try and calculate the chances of missing. Sure, he'd struck smaller targets from greater distances before but now nothing could be taken for granted, and he had one chance. He steadied his hand. Aim.

Now all he needed was the window of opportunity. Gray called Juvia's name, his tone loud and insistent, and within a heartbeat she was rushing towards him, far swifter than could be expected one with injuries such as hers. He had a split second chance to do it, so he didn't think about that before pulling the trigger. Fire.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So I finally updated. Finally.<strong>


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